Of Auras and Oracles
by conception.creation
Summary: The trilogy is complete, but Bartimaeus’ adventures are far from over. When a prominent politician goes missing, Kitty and Bartimaeus must find him, but who is behind the mysterious attacks on Kitty’s life? BartimaeusKitty
1. Prologue: The Chase

Of Auras and Oracles

Prologue: The Chase

By Conception.Creation

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is property of Jonathan Stroud

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Harold Button's heart pounded thunderously in his ears. Hot sweat ran down his forehead, plastering wispy strands of white hair to his skin. His breaths came in painful wheezes as his lungs strained to sustain his lurching gait over the steaming asphalt. His wooden leg made a muffled thump each time it hit the ground. Far overhead the Egyptian sun sizzled, sucking the life from every living thing foolish enough to be out at high noon in the streets of Marsa Matruh. Mr. Button's vision spun and stretched as the heat and exertion sent him reeling.

He did not dare slow down.

From behind him he heard the steady footfalls of his pursuers. His stomach plunged as he realized that the noon sun had not slackened their pace in the least. He stumbled across a busy roadway, heedless of the screeching tires and colorful curses of local drivers who were stunned by the sight of the tiny British magician flailing through the busy traffic, his tie flapping behind him. Mr. Button dashed on, leaning heavily on his cane. He swooped around a corner, skinny arms swinging, and smacked into a local boy carrying a load of vegetables home from the market. Mr. Button murmured a hasty apology to the boy, who was already on the trail of the onions rolling down the pavement. Then he was off again, bouncing down the street. His glasses slipped down his nose as he ran blindly. Sweat poured down his brow and stung his eyes. His lungs burned, yet he continued without any regard to his aching body. His muscles twitched and quivered, threatening to give out.

Up ahead, between two plain-faced apartment buildings was a narrow alleyway. In a last act of desperation, Mr. Button squeezed out his remaining strength and staggered inside. Finally out of sight, he let his screaming body collapse into the dust like melted jell-o. His limbs felt like leaden weights. He was unable to even lift an arm to wipe the sweat from his face. Gradually, his gasping breaths slowed. In the silence that ensued he could hear the distant approach of his enemies.

He had to keep moving. He dragged himself to his feet. His muscles protested against every moment. His feet shuffled across the pathway, raising clouds of dust. He could manage no more then a miserable slog.

His weary ears barely managed to register the clattering sound that rose from overhead before a figure dropped from the balconies above, and landed with a light thump not three feet from where Mr. Button stood. Mr. Button's painful advance ground to a halt. The newcomer rose, towering over him. His seven-foot silhouette cut off the light at the end of the alleyway, yet he did not move, or even speak a word.

Mr. Button took a timid step back. He slowly turned himself around towards the entrance to the alley. It was as he feared. His pursuers had arrived. The narrow space was slowly filling with people, about thirty or forty altogether. They were plainly dressed. They could have been anyone on the street. Yet they moved in perfect silence. The only sound was the soft patter of their feet as they tread towards him. Every dark gaze fixated on his face.

Harold Button backed up instinctively. He collided with the tree trunk like chest of the enormous man blocking the path behind him and instantly froze, overcome with terror. He finally realized the truth. He had been caught.

The white-clothed people were close now. They had stopped their advance and were standing, waiting. The hairs on the back of Harold Button's neck prickled. In his time as a magician in the British government he had seen his share of disturbing sights, but nothing compared to the eerie expectant silence of this mass of people before him. Demons, after all, were rarely silent.

There was a shuffling in their ranks. The sea of people parted to admit a single man. He was a foreigner, and at least sixty years old. He was dressed in a shabby brown suit and scuffed dress shoes. In his wiry arms he carried a small calico cat, which purred as he stroked it thoughtfully. He looked, strangely enough, as though he could have been someone's grandfather. The old man smiled politely.

"Good afternoon." He said, extending his free hand in greeting. Mr. Button's arms remained glued to his sides. He was probably too fatigued to have moved them, had he even had wanted to.

"Who are you?" Mr. Button's voice quivered with fear and exhaustion.

The old man's grin extended, but his eyes were ice cold. "That, Mr. Button, is a question you will have ample time to answer for yourself in these next coming days."

Mr. Button watched helplessly as the old man's frosty eyes turned towards the huge man, who still stood unmoving and silent, blocking the exit.

"If you will, Samir," He said, gesturing absently with one hand.

Without blinking, the large man, Samir, raised a beefy fist, and brought it crashing down on the back of Mr. Button's poor balding head.


	2. The Meeting

Chapter 1: The Meeting

By Conception.Creation

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is property of Jonathan Stroud

A/N: Special thanks to my reviewer. You really made my day!

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Kathleen Jones fidgeted in her seat. The long bus ride was making her antsy. Her seat was hard, and the view out of the window beside her was less then spectacular. Nothing but flat plains of sand stretched between the Siwa Oasis and the town of Marsa Matruh, where she was now headed. She did not like making this trip. In fact, Kitty had been to town fewer then four times in the entire six months she had been living in Siwa. If it had not been for Mr. Button, she certainly would not be doing so now. 

Harold Button had once mentored Kitty in the art of summoning, and she still had something of a soft spot for the doddering magician. He was currently in Egypt on business, and Kitty has made plans to meet him later today. It had been over a year since she had last seen him. Unfortunately, the magician had ties keeping him in Britain, and Kitty rarely had an opportunity to see him. She supposed she could have flown out to visit him earlier, but she still felt uneasy about the idea of returning to London. She had tried it once, after her trip to Prague, but walking through the city where everything was so familiar and yet so different was strangely painful. It was only here under the sunny desert sky that she had finally felt true peace.

There was a metallic thunk from overhead, as if something heavy had fallen against the roof of the bus. Kitty looked up absentmindedly. Suddenly, the metal roof shivered. With a shrill grinding noise, a pair of ragged green claws pierced through the roof as easily as if it had been made of rice paper. The passengers cried out in terror as the clawed hands rolled back the layer of metal, and a hideous creature dropped inside.

Kitty had seen her fair share of demons. From imp to afrit, they all took a perverse delight in assuming monstrous shapes, and this particular specimen was no exception. Mottled green skin, piercing mandibles, an extra set of arms–your typical foliot. The creature swiveled its head around, apparently searching for breakfast. The passengers cowered in their seats.

As the foliot bent towards a cluster of quaking schoolchildren, a young man sitting near the back rose up. With a heroic cry, he hurtled himself down the aisle, leaping towards the monster's exposed back. A green flash of light, and the foolish hero was sent tumbling head over heels through the air, crashing through the windshield and bouncing twice before landing in the dust, unconscious. Kitty roused herself. She had to do something.

She quickly checked herself for silver. Nothing. Lured into a false sense of security by the usual lack of magical activity in Egypt, she had foregone her usual silver knife she had once kept with her for just this sort of occasion. It figured. Her eyes caught a glimmer. The woman seated in front of her, who was currently frozen in wide-eyed terror, was wearing a silver hairpin. Kitty gave the hairpin an unceremonious yank, causing her neighbor's elaborate hairdo to tumble down over her shoulders. Brandishing the long pin above her head, Kitty made a run for the beast.

Noticing the slender girl hurtling towards him like a grey-haired lightning bolt, the creature raised a claw. Immediately, Kitty's vision exploded in a brilliant green blast. A Detonation, head on. Blinking away the bright spots in her vision, Kitty continued towards him. Her natural resistance to magic was far stronger than anything the demon could dish out. She fell upon the creature, plunging her makeshift weapon into its chest. The flesh melted where the pin struck, and an oily vapor billowed upwards from the wound. Spirits were very sensitive to silver. Any contact with it destroyed their essences. With an enraged cry, the demon lifted a meaty arm.

The blow sent Kitty flying into the back wall of the bus, where she collapsed like a rag doll. With a groan, Kitty pulled herself to her feet. The foliot charged at her, intending to impale her on its razor sharp pincers. Kitty quickly sidestepped it, bringing her weapon down hard and striking over and over again. Hissing smoke rose from the wounds the hairpin inflicted, stinging Kitty's face and choking her breath. Chunks of foliot-flesh rained down on her, bouncing off her arms and face. At last the demon collapsed, shriveling into a smoldering pile of ashes at Kitty's feet. She stood over it, boiling essence dripping from the end of the silver pin she clutched.

There was a moment of pure silence. The passengers on the bus stared at her, mouths agape. Slowly, a scatted applause sounded from the back of the bus. Red-faced, Kitty returned to her seat. The pin was returned to its owner, and the unconscious man outside was carried in. The bus started up again, pattering its way down the straight stretch of road toward Marsa Matruh. After all, the desert was no place to stop, even with a broken windshield and a gaping hole in your roof.

The rest of the bus ride was borne in silence. Kitty fiddled with a strand of her long grey hair, trying to ignore the wary glances of her fellow travelers. She did not like the way they looked at her. They seemed grateful for her help, but a little frightened. She could guess what they where thinking. _Who was this girl? How did she do that?_ When they finally arrived in Marsa Matruh she was the first one off the bus, bouncing down the steps with all the zeal of a convict escaping from prison.

Kitty aggressively elbowed her way through the crowded streets. There were people everywhere. Each summer thousands of Egyptian tourists flocked to the Mediterranean city, seeking temporary relief from the sweltering heat and dense overpopulation of Cairo. It was quite a change from the quiet isolation of Siwa.

She was now approaching the café where Mr. Button was supposed to meet her. It was a small, yellow building. A few patrons sat around small metal tables outside, playing backgammon and smoking _sheesha_. Mr. Button was not among them. Kitty swept inside, giving the extraordinarily tall man leaning against the wall a wide berth, and sat down at a table to wait. The late afternoon sun was warm on her shoulders, and she let herself relax in the comfortable café atmosphere. Her eyes wandered over the men sitting nearby. She was surprised to see a Western face among the usual mustachioed Egyptian ones. He was an older gentleman. He sat casually in his chair, sipping a cup of strong Turkish coffee, and listening attentively to the lively speech of a middle-aged local man sitting across from him. His hand rested on the head of the tiny cat that was curled up in his lap. The cat suddenly tensed, meeting Kitty's gaze. It slid off the man's lap and leapt onto Kitty's table, its hair standing on end. It opened its mouth wide and hissed fiercely. Kitty sat up in alarm.

The old man hurried over and scooped up the aggravated cat.

"A thousand apologies my dear," His voice, with its thick German accent, came out strained as he struggled to restrain the squirming feline. "Freia is a rather high-strung cat."

Kitty ran a shaky hand through her hair. Truthfully she was rather taken aback by the unexpected encounter. She rolled her eyes inwardly. She had faced down a slavering demon without so much as a blink; it made absolutely no sense to be alarmed by a scrawny cat.

"It's fine," She said, finally. "She just startled me a bit."

The elderly gentleman smiled gently. "I'm Herman Werfel. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?" Warmed by his friendliness, Kitty returned the smile.

"My name is Kathleen Jones," She replied. Werfel's face lit up.

"Surely not _the_ Ms. Jones? Who lead the Resistance, and spearheaded the British Parliamentary reform? I can't tell you how much I've longed to meet you. I've always felt that I have a similar calling, to rescue the common folk from the clutches of magic…"

"Well, that was a long time ago." Kitty could feel the blood rushing to her face. She always felt embarrassed when her early attempt at achieving equality with the magicians was mentioned. She may have had good intentions, but the whole episode had ended in spectacular tragedy. Glancing around the café, she wondered why Mr. Button had not yet arrived.

"Still…" Werfel's face grew serious. He leaned in towards her, speaking in a low, urgent tone. "Ms. Jones, our meeting here can not be purely coincidental. Perhaps you have heard the recent tales of magical attacks in this area? Magicians may have been dealt a mighty blow, but they are still among us, plotting their revenge." Kitty thought suddenly of the foliot on the bus. Was the foliot's master some disgruntled magician, bent on taking his revenge on Kitty for her part in the magician's fall from power?

"Now listen," Werfel continued, still struggling to maintain his grip on his cat. "I have managed to gather a group of people willing to fight back and wipe all traces of magic from this world, a sort of new Resistance. We would be honoured if you would be able to join us, even for just one meeting. After all, your example has been such an inspiration to us."

Kitty's eyes bulged. Getting involved in more politics was the last thing she wanted to do right now. Besides, there were magicians she liked and respected. Mr. Button for example.

"Um, I'm sorry Mr. Werfel, but I'm not really interested right now."

"Are you certain?" The man looked disappointed. Kitty nodded. She was more interested in forming a peaceful balance between the magicians and the commoners anyways. This talk of annihilation worried her.

"Well, if you change your mind, you're certainly welcome. We are meeting in four days at dusk, at the Oracle of Amun, in Siwa." Kitty blinked. Well that was a strange coincidence. Siwa was where Kitty lived.

"Well, thank you for the invitation, sir," She said, "but I should really be going. I was supposed to meet someone." Speaking of which, where was Mr. Button?

"I understand." Werfel replied. Soothing his cat with low whispers, he returned to his table. Kitty gathered her belongings. Obviously the scatterbrained magician had forgotten his appointment with her.

Kitty had taken less than a handful of steps away from the café, when a voice called out to her.

"Kitty!"

Kitty turned around. Behind her was the diminutive form of Rebecca Piper. Kitty stared at her, uncomprehending. Rebecca was the head of the Magician's Council back in Britain, what on Earth was she doing here?

Rebecca's brown eyes flitted nervously up and down the street. She took a shallow breath, and grasped Kitty's sleeve. Her face was taught with anxiety.

"Kitty, I came as soon as I heard." She said

Kitty's confusion increased.

"What do you mean? What happened, Rebecca?"

Rebecca Piper's eyes grew even rounder.

"You don't know? Come with me." Pulling her by the sleeve, Rebecca drew Kitty away from the road and into the shelter of a quiet back street. She paused, drawing in a shuddering breath before she began.

"It's Harold Button. He's been missing for three days."

Kitty frowned.

"I was supposed to meet him here." She said.

"I know. That's how I knew where to find you. We've lost all contact with him. He won't return our calls and hasn't shown up to any of his appointments here." The petite magician was growing increasingly frantic. Kitty gave her a skeptical look.

"You're overreacting, Rebecca. You know how Harold is…" The elderly magician was well known for his absentmindedness.

"You don't understand!" Rebecca's voice was growing louder. "Kitty, you've been away for a long time. Things have been happening back home. Did you know that four months ago, one of our magicians was assassinated? Several members of the Magician's council left us after that. I've even heard rumours that at least one of them was blackmailed into retirement. Lately, my regular servants haven't been obeying my summons. They must have been killed somehow. Someone has it in for us. There were never very many of us magicians to start with, not after the Demon Rebellion." Rebecca leaned in close. "As it stands right now, Harold and I are the last two magicians in parliament. And if he's gone…"

"Then you're next." Kitty finally understood.

"I have to figure out who's doing this." Rebecca's tone was determined, but Kitty could read the fear behind her eyes. Suddenly, Kitty's thoughts jumped back to the man at the café. What was it he had said? _A group of people willing to wipe all traces of magic from this world…_

Kitty stiffened. Could it be? She rushed back out into the street. There was the café, now starting to bustle as the local men gathered for some evening conversation, but there was no German face among them. The stranger was gone.


	3. The Summons

Chapter 2: The Summons

By Conception.Creation

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is property of Jonathan Stroud

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It was past midnight when Kitty and Rebecca finally made it back to Siwa. The market square was dark and empty, waiting solemnly for the dawn when it would teem with the hustle and bustle of daily life in the Oasis. On Kitty's left, the crumbling mud-fortress of Shali towered above them. Its decrepit walls were illuminated by the thick slew of stars overhead. Shali had long lain abandoned, visited now and then by the occasional tourist. At its foot, the modern village of Siwa lay. Its thick-walled buildings echoed the architecture of the ancient fortress above them.

Kitty breathed deeply. The whisper of the warm evening breeze calmed her senses, making her feel drowsy. At her side, Rebecca was glancing around nervously.

"Is this where those people meet?" She asked, looking fearfully at the honeycombed passages in the fortress above them. She was probably wondering if hordes of anti-magician terrorists were lurking within its shadows, ready to spring at her the moment she got too close.

"No, not here" Kitty reassured her, "He told me to meet them at the Oracle of Amun. It's to the East, outside of town." Rebecca visibly relaxed at her words. Kitty hid a smile. She wondered how the timid magician could possibly cope with the stress of her everyday life as a politician.

Kitty led Rebecca through the narrow unpaved streets, back to her small home near the edge of the village. Groves of date palms pressed thick against its walls. In the distance, the flat topped mountains of Gebel Dakrur were silhouetted against the moon. Kitty pulled the door open and allowed Rebecca to step inside.

Kitty flipped the light switch. The bulb over head flickered to life, illuminating her brightly decorated kitchen.

"You're going to have to sleep on my couch," Kitty said apologetically.

Rebecca sat down at the kitchen table. Wordlessly, Kitty filled a kettle and placed it on the stovetop. There was nothing like a cup of good strong tea in the face of a crisis. She pulled open a drawer, looking for a clean spoon.

There was a terrible squeal and a buzz of wings as something the size of Kitty's fist burst from the drawer she had opened. Kitty stumbled backwards. The scaly thing landed on the tabletop near Rebecca, rubbing its feelers together. It resembled some kind of repulsive two-headed insect. It skittered towards a wide-eyed Rebecca, its spines clicking across the hard surface of the table. Rebecca stirred. She fumbled with something at her waistband. A silver-tipped knife. She managed to extricate it from the folds of her shirt, and brought it down, crushing the bug-like creature with the flat of the blade. The thing let out a dreadful wail before bursting into blue flame and withering away, leaving no more then a horrid lingering stench. Breathing heavily, Rebecca wiped the knife on her pants.

"What was that?" Kitty asked. She drew nearer to inspect the new scorch mark on her table.

"It looked like some kind of mite." Rebecca said, "They're a lesser form of spirit-"

"Yes, I know what a mite is." Kitty interrupted. "What I want to know is what on Earth it was doing in my kitchen."

Rebecca frowned.

"It shouldn't be here. Egypt's last magicians died out seven hundred years ago. Something's going on."

Kitty turned her attention back to the stove, where the kettle was now whistling cheerfully.

"This isn't the first time this happened." She said. Her tone was serious. "This morning I was attacked by some kind of foliot. There has to be some renegade magician here in Siwa. Perhaps he followed me to Egypt, seeking revenge."

Kitty turned around, placing a cup of tea in front of her companion. Rebecca twisted her hands together nervously, ignoring the hot drink. She spoke softly.

"I know there are magicians who resent you, and now you'll have that anti-magician secret society to worry about too. I shouldn't have asked for your help."

Rebecca looked very forlorn. Her head drooped guiltily, and her hair hid her face. Kitty suddenly felt sorry for her. She pasted a comforting smile on her face.

"This situation only makes things easier on us," She said with confidence, "Werfel's group trusts me, I even know where to find him. And I'll bet that any magicians in the area will seek you out. We can work together, like a double-edged sword."

Rebecca smiled a little, hearted by Kitty's confident tone. She stuck out her hand. Kitty grasped it tightly and shook it in a solemn pact. More at ease, Rebecca sipped from her cup of tea. They sat a while in companionable silence. Suddenly Rebecca spoke.

"Kitty, I appreciate everything you're doing to help me," She began, "And if there's truly a magician after you, well then you're going to be in terrible danger. I would be honoured if you'd let me summon one of my servants to protect you."

Kitty choked on her tea. Have a demon protect her? The only djinni she'd ever trusted had died more then a year ago. An empty, hollow feeling filled her stomach. _Don't think about that._

"Thanks for the offer," She said, "But I'd probably be safer without a malicious spirit breathing down my neck."

Rebecca rolled her eyes.

"I'm good at what I do. It's perfectly safe. Please let me do this for you?"

Kitty gave in with a sigh. She understood Rebecca's need to feel useful.

Rebecca sprang from her chair, eager to showcase her magical talents. She opened her purse, pulling out several sticks of coloured chalk and a small plastic bag packed with dried herbs. She walked to the centre of the room, inspecting the evenness of the floor.

Kitty set down her tea. She might as well help Rebecca with the preparations. She rolled back the carpet to reveal the smooth terracotta tiles underneath, then stowed it away in the adjoining room. Then she sat down on the floor to watch Rebecca work her magic.

Rebecca knelt down, drawing the pentacle in her mind's eye. Then she lifted a piece of chalk and made her first mark upon the floor. Kitty looked on in fascination as Rebecca slowly drew the runes. Kitty had learned some magic earlier in life, but she had no where near the expertise of a magician who'd spent their life studying the craft. Rebecca finished the first pentacle, walked to the other side of the room, and began a second, using the same signs as before.

"This one's for you." She stated.

After the last line of chalk had been made to Rebecca's satisfaction, she moved to the centre of the room. Now it was time for the main pentacle, in which the demon would be summoned. She drew carefully. Marks of binding and containment. Thin red lines of just the right shape and thickness. Lines that would prevent the spirit from devouring them. Kitty watched carefully, keeping an eye out for errors. There was no sense getting eaten by a demon this early on in the game.

Herbs were sprinkled, incense was burned, and Kitty even managed to rustle up a few candles, which now flickered from the countertops. The young women took there places in the pentacles. It was time.

Rebecca called out the words of summoning in a fluid voice. Then she spoke the name of her chosen servant.

"_Veruna_!" She called.

There was a pause. They held their breath, listening for the tell-tale crackle of magic that heralded a spirit's arrival on the earth, but the summons remained unanswered. A line appeared between Rebecca's eyebrows. She tried again, speaking the name of a different entity.

"_Hetshepsu_!"

Nothing but silence. Rebecca was growing frustrated.

"Why isn't it working?" Kitty murmured. Rebecca gave her a worried look.

"I don't know. I summoned both of those spirits last week. Perhaps they were summoned by another magician."

Or maybe they were dead.

Well, if there was no spirit forthcoming, then what was the point of standing here? Kitty stepped out from her pentacle.

"It's alright, Rebecca," She tried to sound reassuring, "I don't really need a body guard. Let's just forget about the whole thing."

"Get back in the circle," Rebecca commanded. Kitty's eyebrows rose at her tone. "I'm not letting you gallivant around without proper protection. There are other spirits I know of. One of them is certain to answer my summons."

Kitty obediently sat down in her pentacle. She suspected this was going to be a long night. Who would have thought that little Rebecca Piper could be so determined?

Rebecca thought for a moment and then pushed up her sleeves, businesslike.

"Here's one I haven't tried before." She said.

Rebecca seemed determined to make the summons work this time. She raised her arms, speaking the most powerful summoning incantation she knew. Six different languages poured from her tongue in a jumble of alien sounds. Kitty could almost smell the magic building up around them. Then with a flourish, Rebecca spoke the final word. A word Kitty could scarcely believe she was hearing once again.

"_Bartimaeus_!"


	4. The Reunion

Chapter 3: The Reunion

By Conception.Creation

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is property of Jonathan Stroud

A/N: First of all, I forgot to mention that anonymous reviews are now enabled. Thanks Duckweed! Secondly, this is Bartimaeus' first chapter, which was terribly difficult for me to write. If you have any suggestions or notice anything horribly wrong, I'd appreciate hearing from you. Thank you everyone for the kind reviews last chapter!

* * *

Less than a year had passed, but I was already itching to get back to earth. Now don't go thinking I've gone soft, let me explain. The Other Place had undergone a terrible transformation in the short time since Nathaniel (May he rest in peace) had returned me here. What was once a bright realm teeming with the joyous medley of intertwining essences was now an echoing, shadowy chasm of depression. The occasional dribble of essence flittered about here and there, in a melancholy sort of way. The Other Place was nearly empty. 

The truth was we spirits were disappearing. You can't honestly expect us to hold out forever after all. Not with hordes of good-for-nothing, slave-driving magicians risking _our_ necks, while they lounge around on silk pillows getting fat. I had really expected our favourite freedom-fighter, Kitty Jones, to put an end to our misery. After all, she blathered on and on about how djinn and humans should work together. You should hear that girl talk; she was quite the visionary. I'd almost thought of her as a second Ptolemy. There was a time when I would have done anything for her, just out of gratitude for the show of trust she made to me. You think you know a girl. But judging from the looks of wasteland around me, she hadn't lifted a finger to put an end to our servitude. In fact, things looked even worse now. We were dying in droves.

So much for her promises.

I admit I was feeling a little bitter. I half-wished I could go down there and give that two-faced little commoner a piece of my mind.

Which is why when the summons came, I didn't resist it.

I surrendered my essence to the familiar insistent tug without any struggle. Unfortunately, I wasn't expecting the aggressiveness of the spell. My essence was yanked from the place where it meekly rested, Pounded back and forth like a piece of dough being kneaded in some cosmic bakery, and spewed into the pentacle with an unseemly degree of violence. What kind of feckless bungler just shoves a djinni into a pentacle like that? I think I'd gotten whiplash.

I gathered my battered essence and rose up from the floor in the form of a seriously pissed off hydra. I was determined to show this foolish hack just who they were dealing with. Smoke billowed from my ears, my nine pairs of glowing red eyes smoldered with rage. My mouths growled and snapped, each one dribbling a steady stream of rabid froth. I gave the magician a sideways glance to make sure she was duly impressed.

She hadn't even noticed me.

Instead, the skinny female magician was looking to her left, where another woman stood ranting in a separate pentacle.

"–dead! How on Earth can you not know? You worked with Nathaniel, you heard the story. You must have!" The girl was turning an intriguing shade of purple.

I would know that preachy tone anywhere. It was Kathleen Jones in the flesh. I was surprised I hadn't sensed her aura the moment I materialized in the room. (Missing that blinding dance of colour is nearly as unbelievable as not noticing when you are standing in a room with a ravenous hydra monster.) I should have known that girl had something to do with my recent summons.

I gave Kitty the old once-over. She hadn't changed much since I last saw her, physically speaking. Same willowy figure, same dark eyes, same incongruous grey hair. And that exasperated expression on her face certainly seemed familiar. I interrupted the girl's tirade.

"Did either of you call, or should I just go?" I asked peevishly. Kitty's eyes shot to the gargantuan monster coiled in the centre of the kitchen. I flicked my tail as if to say, yep, I've been here the whole time.

"Who are you?" She asked edgily. I rolled several of my eyes. How dense can you get? It wasn't like I was some stranger who'd broken down the door and forced my way in. I had been called. Quite viciously too, I might add. I shifted. My heavy coils and impressive collection of heads shrunk down to form Ptolemy's shape. I was pretty certain the girl would recognize me in _that_ form.

Kitty's eyes boggled out of her head. (Metaphorically speaking of course.)

"Bartimaeus?"

I nodded, grinning.

"You're alive?"

"Looks like it."

There was an awkward pause.

"What's going on here?" Interrupted the skinny magician who'd summoned me. Apparently she was feeling left out of the conversation, such as it was.

"That's what I'd like to know," I said, trying to keep from sounding too sulky.

Something dawned in Kitty's face. She'd put two and two together I guess. Her dark eyes met mine soberly.

"Did Nathaniel…" Her voice trailed off.

"Yes." I answered her unspoken question. The scrawny kid had saved my life by releasing me from my ties to the Earth at the last moment. I'd never known he'd had it in him.

Kitty's eyes glistened. She took a step towards me, nearing the edge of the pentacle.

"I thought you were dead," She choked out, "I thought everyone was dead."

"Not everyone," I said brightly, "Just Nathaniel… unless maybe you count a few British Magicians. And countless spirits. And all those people who used to be in the resistance I guess…" I trailed off. Kitty began to sob. Oops.

The magician interrupted my pathetic attempts at comfort before I had a chance to start feeling guilty.

"Kitty!" She shrieked in panic, "You're far too close to the edge of the pentacle. Get back! It's trying to make you get upset and break the circle!" Typical magician that one was. Liked giving orders, but no observation skills whatsoever. You'd think she'd have noticed by now that Kitty and I weren't exactly strangers.

Kitty pulled herself together.

"Rebecca, this is Bartimaeus." She said. The skittish magician girl still looked upset. Actually, now that I thought about it, the magician seemed vaguely familiar. I think she'd once been in Nathaniel's employ.

"I know its name," She said, "I summoned it. Kitty, please just sit down and let me deal with the demon." She gave Kitty a supplicating look. I think she was longing to throw Kitty from the room. I don't suppose there was actually much hope of her doing so, unfortunately. She'd have to break the pentacle, and no one is stupid enough to throw themselves to the mercy of a fearsome djinni like myself. (Of course, in general magicians aren't quite your paragons of intelligence, so there's always that chance. Nathaniel did it.)

"Let me explain," Kitty spoke, "I know Bartimaeus. We've worked together. He's different from other demons…"

"Spirits," I interjected. Demon is a rather derogatory word, after all.

"Yes, that's what I meant. Thank you Bartimaeus." She shot me an annoyed look, as though to say this wasn't the moment to be worrying about political correctness. "As I was saying, Bartimaeus is our ally. We have nothing to fear from him."

Well Kitty certainly didn't. As much as I was annoyed with her, we still shared a certain bond. She was the first human to visit the Other Place since the days of Ptolemy. (Probably the last, too, at the rate things were going.) Rebecca Piper was fair game, however.

Rebecca must have noticed the gleam in my eye. She took a wary step back. (Not far enough, unfortunately.)

"No demon is an ally. They are either servants or enemies."

I plastered a scowl on Ptolemy's face. This was exactly the kind of attitude that Kitty had tricked me into thinking she could change. I turned to the girl.

"By the way Kitty," I snarled, "Thanks for all your help saving us spirits from human persecution. Your achievements are truly stunning."

"What do you mean?" She looked at me in seemingly innocent confusion. I knew better.

"I think you know exactly what I mean," I growled, "Are you forgetting a little incident where a certain djinni saved a certain city at the request of a certain commoner? Where's all your talk of righting injustice now that you've got what you wanted?"

Kitty flushed red. She crossed her arms over her chest defensively.

"Magic isn't something we can just get rid of." She protested, "We've managed to cut back on the amount of magicians in England. Rebecca here is our last magical politician. And for your information, most countries are magician-free these days. We're leaving you alone–"

"Oh is that why the Other Place is so empty? There is hardly anyone left."

Kitty froze.

"Empty?" She tugged the ends of her hair as she contemplated the enormity of my statement. "It can't be. Are you sure?"

I gave her a look. Of course I was sure! Kitty wasn't the one who'd been floating alone in the vacuum of the Other Place for a year. I'm very social. It was traumatic.

"Yes, Kitty. Finally you humans have managed to destroy the djinn race. It was bound to happen eventually–"

"Bartimaeus–"

"I'm surprised we managed to last as long as we did–"

"Bartimaeus–"

"Of course, you could have tried to help us like you promised. You certainly took care of your own people–"

"Bartimaeus, shut up and listen to me!"

My, wasn't she the little despot today!

"I'm listening." I doubled the size of Ptolemy's ears for dramatic effect.

Kitty drew in a deep breath.

"Look, I see your point. I promised you the end of your enslavement. If I failed, I'm sorry. All I can say is, I'm going to make it up to you."

I scoffed, waggling my gigantic ears. But Kitty had that determined look in her eye; the one that always makes me nervous. She took a step forward, crossing the lines of the pentacle on the floor. I felt the spells around her snap.

"Kitty what are you doing?" Yelped the magician who, until this moment, had remained blessedly silent.

Kitty ignored her protests. She walked steadily across the floor, her eyes fixed on mine. She stood in front of me, just outside the pentacle that bound my essence.

"Bartimaeus," She said, "I trust you. I've proved that to you before. And you proved to me that you were worthy of that trust."

So saying, she reached out and drew her foot across the white chalk lines that formed the pentacle, smearing them irreparably. The magic of the pentacle dissolved immediately. I stood there motionless, facing Kitty, unable to tear myself away from the girl's dark, serious eyes. Kitty had displayed her trust in me before, of course. But you have to admit, that was a lot different from setting me free entirely.

"What have you done?" Rebecca's horrified voice broke through the profound moment.

Kitty stepped back.

"If Bartimaeus is going to help us," She said, "He is going to do so on his own terms, of his own free will."

A strangled sound emanated from Rebecca's throat. No doubt the twiggy magician expected me to immediately jump at her throat. (Not that my gloating expressions were helping to put her at ease, either.) Normally it's wise for humans to be wary of us higher beings; just look at what happened in the demon rebellion. However, once in a while you get a gracious being like me, who's willing to let you puny humans live.

I waltzed out of my pentacle, enjoying the spindly magician's newfound pallor. It made her look like a transparent toothpick. I winked at her. She whimpered, backed out of her pentacle and bumped right into the wall. (It was kind of a waste, really. I only seem to be able to scare magicians out of their pentacles when it doesn't really count. Bad luck, I guess.)

Kitty cleared her throat. I gave her my full attention.

"We're on a mission," She declared. It figured. The girl was always on a mission. "I'm going to be infiltrating a secret society to rescue an old friend of mine, who I suspect has been kidnapped." Well that was kind of interesting.

"Bartimaeus," She continued, "You know you are the only one I'd want by my side. But I'm not going to force you to help me. I'm only going to ask you." She gazed at me appealingly.

I looked at Kitty. Her face was lit by the fluctuating radiance of her aura. If anything its brightness was even more intense then I'd remembered. When I'd first entered the room, I'd been upset with her, even felt a bit betrayed. But looking at her now, I could already tell that she still carried that same streak of passionate altruism that I'd always found myself fascinated by. Whose cause had she taken up now? Another adventure by her side wouldn't be so bad, would it? I certainly wasn't interested in heading back to the newly vacant Other Place to wait out the rest of eternity in virtual isolation. (What a waste of talent and intelligence that would be.) Slowly I nodded my head. Kitty's smile was like the sun breaking through the clouds.

I smiled back at her. I always enjoyed Kitty's company. Unlike most mortals, she was neither a dullard nor a slime bucket. She always managed to surprise me, and that was quite a feat. When you're five thousand years old there isn't much you haven't already seen.

I let myself wander around the room a bit, ignoring the cowering magician in the corner.

"Nice place you've got here," I said. The previous drama had prevented me from properly observing our surroundings, but now I took a good look.

I was in a small kitchen of some kind. The rug had been rolled away to make room for the three now-useless pentacles. There were a handful of stumpy candles burning down upon the countertop. Embroidered wall hangings and colourful hand-woven baskets livened up the neutral interior with splashes of colour. From the window above the sink, my heightened eyesight could make out the dark shapes of palm trees against the night sky.

Something about the view led me to the conclusion that we were no longer in England. (A little something I call deductive reasoning.) I shot Kitty a quizzical look. A secretive smile lit up her face, making me wonder what I had gotten myself into here.

"Welcome back to Egypt, Bartimaeus." She said.


	5. The Dream

Chapter 4: The Dream

By Conception.Creation

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is property of Jonathan Stroud

A/N: Thank you everyone for your helpful comments. We'll see if I can improve on Bartimaeus's point of view next chapter.

* * *

Kitty lifted the heavy trapdoor as discretely as she could. From where she stood on the ladder leading to the roof, she could see the djinni's form silhouetted against the pastel shades of the dawn sky. He'd been up there for an hour now, absolutely motionless, staring pensively out over the vast palm orchards that stretched out to the horizon, filling the entire Siwa valley. Kitty was beginning to feel a little worried for him.

She scaled the ladder noiselessly and drifted over to where the Egyptian boy stood, still as a statue. She cleared her throat.

"So… Erm, I guess this place brings back a few memories, huh?"

Bartimaeus stirred, looking over at her.

"I traveled the entire length of the Western Desert in Ptolemy's day," He said, "Just rocks and dunes and boring stuff, mostly. But this particular place always stuck out in my memory," He sat down cross-legged on the flat mud-brick surface of the roof, and gestured for Kitty to follow suit. "It wasn't a part of Egypt at the time. There was no road here, and the place was settled entirely by the Berber people. It was its own place with its own culture."

"It still is," Kitty said, "I think you'll find that very little here has changed. It's like going back it time…"

There was a moment of silence. The pair sat side-by-side, watching the sun peak up over the rust-coloured mountains on the horizon. Kitty spoke again.

"After Nathaniel died I couldn't bear to be in England anymore." She looked down at her hands. "So I traveled. I went to Brugges first, visited my friend Jakob. Remember him?"

Bartimaeus snorted.

"I hope he's lost some weight."

Kitty shrugged.

"Not really. Anyways, after I returned from Belgium, I knew I still wasn't ready to face everyone, so I thought I'd give Egypt a try."

The Egyptian boy quirked an eyebrow.

"Wow. I wonder who gave you _that_ idea."

"Well, yes," She replied, "Your stories about it intrigued me." In fact, Kitty had found herself fascinated by nearly anything Bartimaeus spoke of. Whether it was the cyclic nature of history, or tales from his own past, the djinni always had something interesting and insightful to say–once you cut through the sarcasm.

Kitty realized she had trailed off. She cleared her throat. "So… I went to Cairo, saw the pyramids, toured around the country. Eventually I found this place–so calm and secluded. It just resonated with me somehow. I've never left it since."

The djinni's scrutinizing eyes locked with her own. Kitty knew that his slender face and tousled, black hair was a perfect replication of the Egyptian magician who'd died so long ago, reproduced with all the accuracy of two thousand years of practice. But something in the expression of those dark eyes spoke of a life as old as civilization itself: of a thousand different stories, of the rise and fall of countless empires. The eyes gave him away.

The jarring clatter of someone scampering up the ladder dispelled her thoughts. Rebecca Piper burst up onto the roof, her face a ghastly shade of grey.

"Rebecca, what's the matter?" Kitty said with concern. Her friend looked extraordinarily distressed.

"Can I speak to you for a moment?" Rebecca said through clenched teeth. Not waiting for an answer, she grabbed Kitty's arm and pulled her over to the far side of the roof.

"Look," Rebecca said, "You've unleashed a dangerous spirit. I can't change that now. But I'm not going to let you commit suicide by running off alone with that thing!" She peeped over at Bartimaeus. "We're not talking about another mite, or even a foliot. That thing over there is a fourth level djinni, and you can't kill it with a silver hairpin if it gets out of control."

"I can hear you, you know," The spirit in question called from where he sat on the other side of the roof. Kitty ignored him.

"That's the entire point of trust, Rebecca," Kitty said patiently, "Yes, Bartimaeus could kill us. We are letting him free anyways because we have faith in him–that he will choose not to harm us."

"Maybe you think so, but I don't," Said Rebecca. Her lips compressed into a thin white line.

Kitty crossed her arms. Her face hardened into its most stubborn expression.

"Look here!" She declared with fury, "I'm going to prove to the world that humans and spirits can work together, I'm going to change the way humans think about djinn. I'm going show magicians and demons how to settle their differences," Kitty leaned in close, "And I'm going to start with you, Rebecca Piper."

The magician gaped at her.

"Cute speech. But absolute rubbish considering that we're an endangered species nowadays." said Bartimaeus

"It's never too late." Kitty said vehemently. She prayed fervently that she was right.

"Kitty, that _thing_ is making faces at me!"

Kitty rolled her eyes. The three of them had been out for less then ten minutes, yet Rebecca and Bartimaeus were already bickering like two-year-old children.

Kitty had decided the best thing she could do to foster some cooperation between the two before the meeting tomorrow night would be to go on an outing together. So they had set out down the dirt road towards Birket Siwa, a salt lake to the west of the village. She only now realized what a foolish idea it had been.

"My face always looks like this," Said Bartimaeus, whose tongue was lolling out of his right ear. Kitty shot him a glare.

"Bartimaeus, we are in public. Behave with some decorum please."

The djinni harrumphed, and then changed his form. His features morphed into those of a thin, brown-haired girl; Rebecca Piper, to be precise.

Rebecca choked.

"Kitty, do something! What if someone sees him like that?"

Indeed, a few passing cyclists were giving the trio curious stares.

"What?" said Bartimaeus "Is this form too gruesome for the weak stomachs of the general populous? I admit it is rather unsightly. All skin and bone…"

"Cut it out, Bartimaeus," Kitty said sternly, "Am I going to have to separate the two of you?"

"It's not my fault if it harasses me!"

"Hey, you're the one who tried to enslave me."

"Idiot demon!"

"Lowlife magician!"

"Shut up, both of you, we're here."

They had arrived at the shore of a vast lake. Its pale blue waters reflected the image of the low conical mountains on the other shore. Its edge was dotted with salt-loving plant life, and the occasional date palm. Out in the middle of the lake a palm-covered island sprang up, looking as inviting as the Garden of Eden.

Forgetting her annoyance, Rebecca sprang forwards, splashing into the inviting waters of the lake. Her feet kicked up clouds of salt as she passed. Bartimaeus turned his nose up at the prospect of the salty water. Taking the form of a crane, he began to fly in low circles around the lake, enjoying a bird's eye view of the bizarre landscape.

_So much for forcing everyone together_, thought Kitty. She wandered along the edge of the lake shore, the marshy ground sucking at her feet as she walked. She came to a standstill under the shade of a scraggly palm tree, and gazed out over the lake. She could see Rebecca sloshing through the shallow waters on the other side. Kitty lay down among the reeds, gazing up at the cloudless sky. A soft salty breeze caressed her face.

She sighed, closing her eyes and relinquishing the stress of the past few hours. Only now did she realize that she had been awake all night.

_So tired_…

She let the gentle rhythm of the lazy afternoon lull her into unconsciousness.

_Though Kitty was asleep, she could still sense where her body lay. She could hear the waves lapping at the shore, could feel the ground beneath her back. Yet somehow she knew that she was no longer awake. Her vision was dark, but whether it was part of her dream or simply the view of the backs of her eyelids, she could not tell. Her body felt as limp and boneless as a spaghetti noodle._

_Something shifted around her. Goosebumps shot up and down her arms. There was something surrounding her, filling her, making her skin crawl. The individual hairs on her arms prickled. Her body seemed to crackle with a foreign energy. Inexplicable panic overtook her as a burning, metallic taste filled her mouth. _

_She tried to move, to pry her eyes open, to do anything. It was like moving through glue. She was powerless and immobile against the strange presence that surrounded her like a halo. Then a horrible sickening feeling as something fluid seemed to gather itself deep within her, pushing itself out through her pores, bursting from her body, and dissipating into the emptiness around her. Kitty opened her mouth in a silent scream of terror._

"Kitty!"

A pair of hands shook her roughly by the shoulders, and she was awake. Daylight burst into her line of vision as she found she could open her eyes. Bartimaeus's face floated above her, his eyes wide with concern.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

Kitty's arm felt unnaturally heavy as she wiped the cold sweat from her brow.

"I was dreaming…" It had been a strange, unnatural dream that had left her feeling as if she'd been run over with a cement truck.

"You aura's gone crazy," Bartimaeus said, "It's always been weird, but now it's completely overpowering."

"Is something wrong with me?" Kitty asked faintly.

Just then, Rebecca Piper stumbled up the bank, gesturing wildly. Her wet hair was sticking up in all directions.

"Get away from her!" She cried. "Kitty, are you alright?"

Only then did Kitty realize that Bartimaeus was still gripping her shoulders. With an embarrassed grimace, he set her free and turned to glare fiercely at Rebecca. The air around Kitty felt oddly cold as he moved away. She shivered.

"If you hadn't been so busy frolicking around in the water, you might have noticed that something's happened to Kitty." Bartimaeus said.

"Me? Why you hypocritical wretch! I didn't see _you_ sticking around here!" Rebecca yelled.

Kitty sighed. How on Earth was she going to accomplish anything with these two for accomplices?


	6. The Temple

Chapter 5: The Temple

By Conception.Creation

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is property of Jonathan Stroud

A/N: Hmm, interesting dream, Nari. (Wish I could make it come true!) Thanks for the encouraging reviews. (and the tasty lollipop from Duckweed) I thought I'd mention that the places in this story are all real. Try googling them! And now, here's Bartimaeus, take two...

* * *

It was time. Dusk was falling over the valley, casting odd shadows on the tree tops beneath me. I was a small desert lark, flying above the palm groves, my innocuous shape belying my true power. Sand-coloured wings flapped vigorously, propelling me towards the rubble-topped rock that was the Temple of Amun. 

I wondered if Herman Werfel and his followers were aware of the history of the ruins where they met. It was a truly poetic choice for an anti-magician organization. (The Temple of Amun had once been home to a particularly nasty magician–the Oracle of Amun. As is the custom, her excessive extortion and greed was punished with immense fame and riches. This incited the jealousy of many of the ruling pharaohs, who sent their armies to ransack the temple. Unsurprisingly, they were never heard from again. According to legend, the Oracle conjured up vast sandstorms to cover the enemy invaders, with the help of an unusually powerful pentacle. Ironically, distracted by the joy of her victories, the magician lost control of her magic. The resultant blast of energy obliterated the Oracle, her disciples, and most of the nearby village of Aghurmi.)

I flitted over the worn pathway up the side of the hill, passing several shady-looking individuals wending their way up to the temple above. No one seemed to notice the dainty fowl weaving between them. Boy, these folks were certainly out of practise. If I had not been a benevolent spirit on a simple reconnaissance operation, they'd have been long gone.

A low archway marked the summit. I darted beneath, noting the sentries that guarded the entrance to the temple grounds. The moon glinted off their wicked-looking silver spears. I hurried past, fortunately remaining unnoticed.

The ruins of the temple rose up around me as I entered. There wasn't much left to it. The roof was long gone, and the walls that were still standing were in terrible condition. Crumbling bits of dried mud broke from the sides of the outbuildings I passed, disturbed by no more then the gentle beat of my wings. I drew closer to the temple-proper. It was a sorry sight. The walls of the outer courtyard were completely decimated, leaving only the scattered boulders of its foundations sticking up through the ground like prehistoric bones. Elegantly fluted Doric columns that had once stood proudly framing the temple's entrance had toppled over and lay scattered in large pieces. A throng of people were congregating in the temple's outer court. Most bore grim weapons and even grimmer expressions.

Hmm. Well this definitely seemed to be the place where Kitty's meeting was being held. I swooped down lower to see if I could spot any sign of the missing magician we were looking for. I didn't actually know what he looked like, but hey, I can usually spot a magician a mile away. It was worth a shot.

I perched on a rocky outcropping, surveying the temple area on all seven planes. I didn't really expect to find any spirits lurking around, but there isn't any harm in being thorough. Just as I expected, nothing. The crowd outside the temple was growing larger. The meeting would soon begin. I took to wing again, gliding down the mountainside into the thick vegetation at its foot.

"Any sign of him, Bartimaeus?" Whispered a voice from the shadows. Kitty crawled out from the long grass where she had been hiding. The obnoxious magician, Piper, followed suit. She had refused to be left behind, declaring that she wasn't going to let me out of her sight for any longer than necessary. This suspicion she was exhibiting was one of the classic political virtues: the others being an unwholesome degree of ambition and a self-serving attitude. It's just one of those things that make magicians such _agreeable_ company. I have no idea what she thought she was going to do if I actually started misbehaving. Was she planning on restraining me with those scrawny little arms of hers?

"Afraid not," I answered, "But the meeting is about to start, and some of us," Here I gestured over towards Piper, "Aren't invited. Run along home now, you've done enough supervising for the day."

Rebecca gave me a look that would freeze molten lead. We hadn't been getting on very well. However, we both knew there was no way she could infiltrate the meeting with Kitty and I. The girl sat down obstinately on the grassy ground.

"I'm staying right here and waiting for you, Bartimaeus. If you come back and one hair on her head is harmed–"

"Yes, yes, I get the picture." I said. Had the girl been any more on-edge, she would have combusted from stress alone. I smiled at the thought.

I perched on Kitty's shoulder as we set off towards the temple. We climbed through the thick underbrush, making our way towards the foot of the mountain. At the edge of the tree line I stopped to change into a nondescript grey rat.

"Psst, Kitty, down here!" I whispered. Kitty's eyes darted here and there, looking for the source of my voice. I waved a paw.

"A rat?" She asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Put me in you're pocket," I ordered, "I'd rather remain out of sight." Grimacing, Kitty picked me up gingerly by the tail and plopped me into the dark enclosure of her coat pocket. You know, I really don't understand what you humans have against rats. They're better looking then most of the magicians I've known. Usually have better hygiene, too.

Kitty started up the mountainside. I couldn't really see much at this point, so I just sat back and let Kitty propel us towards our goal.

"Now remember," Kitty said as she laboured up the pathway, "We are here to observe. That means no cat-calls, no magic, and absolutely no shape shifting. We don't want them to realize what you truly are."

"I'm not stupid," I said petulantly, "for your information, I've been in this line of work a lot longer then you have."

"Just be good," She warned.

Suddenly we came to a halt. I could feel Kitty stiffen. A gruff voice filtered through the thin fabric of the pocket I rested in.

"Who are you? I've never seen you here before."

I poked my nose out, careful to avoid being seen. In front of us stood one of the tallest humans I have ever seen. He was blocking the passage up to the temple compound, looking none-too friendly.

Kitty took a deep breath and opened her mouth to answer, but right at that moment a wizened old man hurried into view, cat tucked under his arm.

"Ms. Jones, Ms. Jones!" He burbled, "How wonderful to see you here! How pleased I am that you've decided to visit us!"

The cat he carried hissed and spat, struggling to get free of its effusive master. I really didn't blame it. (Actually, the cat was probably just bothered by Kitty's aura. All cats have the ability to see magical auras, and Kitty's writhed and blazed with enough intensity to give an Afrit a seizure.) The creepy old man didn't seem to notice his pet's agitation. He kept right on talking.

"And you know, today is going to be a very special meeting. Come in, dear, come in."

"Thank you Mr. Werfel," Kitty said steadily. The rat ducked back into the pocket as Werfel led Kitty through the temple courtyard, towards the entrance to the outer sanctuary. Interestingly enough, I could feel some kind of strange magic prickling at my essence. I wondered if the Oracle's old pentacle was still there on the temple floor. Kitty's hand reached surreptitiously into her pocket to rest on my fur. I could tell she was uneasy.

We joined the throng inside the temple. I looked around to get my bearings. The temple ruins were packed with people who looked rather ordinary, but their hard expressions and assortment of weaponry suggested otherwise. I wondered how Werfel had managed to rustle up so many followers in a land fundamentally devoid of magicians. (It's notoriously difficult to incite the masses without some kind of scapegoat to blame for all of your problems.)

The followers pressed together to form a wide circle. I had a better view of the floor now, and I could make out a few deep-chiseled runes in the stone beneath Kitty's feet. Interesting. So the pentacle was still there after all. We were standing in a ring around its edge. Something told me Werfel and his followers hadn't chosen this place by accident. Speaking of Werfel, the old man, now free of his cat, strode forwards into the centre of the pentacle. In a voice that seemed too loud to be coming from a man of his small stature, he addressed the crowd.

"My dear friends," He began, "Here, we gather together to celebrate our increasing victory over the magicians. We have with us today a very special young woman. She was the first great leader to stand against the magicians, and the mastermind behind the fall of the magical British Government. Her dedication and vision are a great part of the reason why we formed this organization in the first place. I give you Kathleen Jones!"

There was a thunderous applause. Poor Kitty, it's normally disheartening to hear your enemies cite you as their inspiration. I stole a look at her face. Her expression was grim.

"And now," Werfel continued, "We will proceed with tonight's program. Samir?"

The large man lumbered over, taking his place in the centre of the pentacle. Then, to my utter disbelief, he began chanting a summoning incantation.

Huh? What? I thought these guys were trying to get _rid_ of magic. I looked up at the people around us. Nobody moved to stop the big guy.

The pentacle was beginning to fill with lemon-scented mist. I hoped we'd be safe where we stood, but to be honest I didn't really understand exactly how the Pentacle of the Oracle worked. The symbols roughly cut into the floor were foreign to me. Those who bore spears aimed them nervously towards the entity forming in the centre of the pentacle. The mist throbbed and pulsed before finally coalescing into a vaguely humanoid shape, staring out at its audience with vivid orange eyes. I checked it out on the other planes. Not someone I knew, fortunately. I squirmed deeper into the recesses of the coat, counting on Kitty's blinding aura to shield me from the newcomer's view.

The djinni looked this way and that, searching for its master. It caught sight of Samir, who was standing not three feet away. I couldn't believe the foolish human had summoned the spirit while standing inside the pentacle. You have to admire his nerve. Or his stupidity. (I find the two are often mutually indistinguishable.) The djinni glided towards the big fellow. I winced. This was going to be messy.

Suddenly, the people around the pentacle raised their arms in unison. Their mouths opened, and out poured a cacophony of gruesome sounds. As they chanted the ancient curse, the symbols forming the pentacle beneath us began to glow with an eerie light. I could feel a strange pressure building up on all sides, like water behind a dam, ready to burst. The djinni looked around, confused by the sinister atmosphere and unfamiliar spell.

There was a second of silence as the last syllables died away. Everyone in the room stood stock still, waiting for something to happen. Seconds went by. We stood, waiting with baited breath. I honestly didn't know what to expect. The air thickened, sticking in my lungs. Kitty and I exchanged glances.

Suddenly, the room began to shake. Loose pieces of rubble rained down on our heads, and a low rumble resounded, as though from a great ways off. The dim light of the runes burst into furious brilliance. In the centre of the pentacle, the spirit began to vibrate. Tendrils of oily grey essence steamed off its surface with a low hiss. The mist-creature turned its head this way and that, its panic-stricken eyes searched for an escape. A rumble of energy resounded from every direction as it vibrated faster and faster.

The djinni lurched towards the edge of the pentacle. It was going to try to break free. The rumbling around us grew deafening as the djinni began to wither. Its surface crumpled inwards, shrinking into itself as though it were being sucked into an infinitesimally small point. Then there came a thunderous roar as the spirit's essence exploded outwards, bowling over the bystanders, and diffusing into the air. Where there had once been a valiant djinni, there was now nothing but a dull echo and a rancid smell.

I was frozen in disbelief. These people weren't after the magicians; they were going straight for the source of magic itself. Us.

I was frothing at the mouth. How dare they? How _dare_ these worthless fanatics destroy a noble spirit for the sake of there pathetic cause! A terrible thought came to me. Was this the cause of the dwindling population of the Other Place? Was what I had just seen a part of the systematic annihilation of our race? I'd thought you couldn't get any lower then a magician, but not even the most despicable of my masters had ever even considered genocide against djinn. (Perhaps this is because magicians are more concerned with killing each other, and are generally uninterested in the Other Place.)

Meanwhile, Werfel had gotten back on his feet and was smiling coldly.

"That went very smoothly, this time," He said. "Congratulations are in order."

It was the last straw. I was going to swallow that creep right this instant. I moved to jump from Kitty's pocket.

Wham! She jammed her hands inside her pockets, trapping me inside.

"Shh," She hissed between her teeth.

The crowd was stirring. I could hear their murmurs growing on either side of me. I wished Kitty would let me see what was going on.

"My dear friends," I recognized Werfel's voice, "You have made me very proud indeed. We are making excellent progress towards our goal. Now, for the next item on the agenda."

Then came some muffled shuffling, and the volume of the murmurs around us increased. I could sense Kitty tensing. What was going on?

"Long ago, our forefathers cleansed this land of the evil practitioners of magic, but behold! One has returned!"

The crowd hissed and booed. Okay, that was it. I had to see what was happening. I bit down hard on Kitty's hand. She jumped, pulling her hand away with a muffled curse. I had a feeling I was going to be paying for that one later.

Now free, I thrust out my head and surveyed the area. It wasn't hard to find the cause of all the fuss. On the floor, by Werfel's feet, lay Harold Button, politician and magician extraordinaire. (I could tell this was the man we had been searching for. My heightened senses could detect his unmistakable magician scent. Remember what I was saying about rats?)

Harold Button seemed to be in a sticky situation. He was lying in the middle of an ancient magic-magnifying pentacle, surrounded by a posse of fanatical cult members crying for his blood. Apparently the clever revolutionaries were worried that the one-legged seventy-year-old would pull a daring escape, for they had him trussed up like a pig for the slaughter.

The charming Mr. Werfel was now brandishing a rather sharp-looking knife. The tiny magician on the floor flopped about like a fish on a hook, trying to cry out past the gag in his mouth.

Suddenly I realized that Kitty was holding her breath. She wasn't going to do anything stupid, was she?

"Stop!" Kitty cried. Oops, I guess she was. (And _she_ had lectured_ me_ about staying undercover!)

The girl had broken from the circle and was carrying us towards Mr. Button's prone form. The magician had caught sight of her and was now wriggling like mad. Several members of the crowd cried out in surprise.

"Go back, Ms. Jones," Werfel commanded. He blocked Kitty's way, attempting to stare her down. If he thought Kathleen Jones was going to stand down without a fight, he had another thing coming. Kitty pushed past him forcefully. The elderly man stumbled, tumbling backwards and landing with his feet sticking up in the air.

Suddenly, all hell broke loose. The mob rushed forward, cutting off Kitty's view of Mr. Button. Arms grabbed at her. Kitty dodged them, her swift kick sending one unfortunate cult-member flying. The girl was forcing her way through the crowd, lashing out at anyone in her path. But as much spirit as Kitty had, she wasn't going to succeed. There were simply too many opponents. They surrounded the slight girl, faces cold and expressionless. Kitty struggled as her arms were grabbed and forced behind her back.

Oh, right. I should probably be helping. I burst from Kitty's pocket, in a fury of grey fur. The scruffy rat hovered in the air, preparing to blast a magic attack from its tiny paws. Shouts rang out as the mob became aware of a fearsome djinni in their midst.

I shot a Detonation towards Kitty's captors. I wasn't too worried about hitting Kitty; the girl was pretty much impervious to magic. The bolt of energy exploded near her feet, the force of the explosion sending one man sailing over the temple walls. The other was instantly incinerated by an intense green flame. Kitty picked herself up off the floor.

Something whizzed by my ear. It was a beefy fellow brandishing a silver scimitar. Oh, I had forgotten they were armed. I somersaulted backwards, launching an Inferno in mid-flight. People leapt aside as it struck the floor in a burst of blue flame.

One zealous warrior charged, jabbing at me with his silver-tipped spear. I dodged the thrust, feeling the cold aura of the silver rushing past me. I unleashed my awesome fury upon the spear-wielding man, grabbing him by the throat and tossing him across the room. He crashed through the wall, leaving a gaping hole in the pretty sunken-relief of King Amisis offering a peace offering of wine to the gods.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Kitty making her way towards the bound magician. Time for a distraction. I swelled my rat's-form to an impossible size, lobbing magic every which way. Spasms, Convulsions, and Infernos lit up the room with their cheery colours. Now if I could only find Werfel there would be just enough time to eat him before escaping with Mr. Button.

"Hold, demon!"

The command had come from Samir, the man who'd spoken the incantation earlier. He was standing a little ways back from the fray, near the hapless magician we were attempting to rescue. I froze as I realized just who it was he was grasping by the neck. It was Kitty Jones; her furious temper was no match for the behemoth's massive strength. In his right hand he held a particularly wicked-looking knife, which was poised threateningly above Kitty's vulnerable jugular vein.


	7. The Compromise

Chapter 6: The Compromise

By Conception.Creation

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is property of Jonathan Stroud

A/N: Wow, thank you for the enormous complement, Nari! It was very encouraging. About Werfel (Amusing that both my reviewers commented on his name!), I don't think Germans are evil, in fact, I have some German heritage too! I just like the sound of German names. I hadn't even noticed "Herman the German," but now that you mention it, I like it!

* * *

Kitty's breath caught as the slim, silver blade hovered against her neck. Her pulse beat in her ears, drowning out all other sound. She had lost. Her eyes strayed helplessly to the frantic Mr. Button, just feet away. She had been so close. A low chuckle sounded in her ear.

Her captor turned his attention to Bartimaeus, ordering him to stand down. Kitty watched as the rat-shaped djinni froze in mid-air, turning its beady eyes on her. _Do something, _she pleaded silently.

"That's it," The voice behind her boomed, "Now come back down to the floor where I can see you."

The rat slowly drifted to earth, where it took on its familiar form. As soon as Ptolemy's feet touched the floor the crowd swarmed around him, their deadly silver weapons poised to kill. Bartimaeus raised his hands in surrender.

"Uh, careful guys. Too much silver makes me sneeze."

"Silence!" Samir shouted.

The djinni paused but couldn't keep quiet for long.

"Look, I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot here. Why don't we all put down our weapons and just agree to a stalemate?"

"It's no use, djinni." This was from Mr. Werfel, who had gotten up and was now dusting off his scruffy brown jacket. "We do not parley with demons." Werfel's frosty, glittering eyes fell on Kitty. "Nor with their magicians, either. Kathleen Jones, you surprise me."

Kitty's eyes narrowed.

"I'm not a magician," She said.

"Oh? And where did this abhorrent creature come from?" Werfel gestured to Bartimaeus. "Admit that he is your servant. You have forsaken your own people–"

"Actually," Bartimaeus butted in, "You're way off-base there. As it happens, _I'm_ the magician, cleverly disguised as a handsome djinni–"

"Hold your tongue or we shall be forced to destroy you!" Samir hissed. The crowd surrounding Bartimaeus shifted, gripping their weapons more tightly.

"Bartimaeus, just do what they say!" Kitty called out in a panic.

Herman Werfel held up a hand.

"Not so hasty, gentlemen. Samir, please bring Kitty over here by me. Yes that's it, thank you."

Kitty was dragged across the room by her elbows and flung roughly to Werfel's feet. She pushed herself up on one arm, her eyes darting between Mr. Button, bound on the floor, and Bartimaeus, held at the point of a dozen silver blades. She racked her brains, trying desperately to think of a way out. There had to be _something_.

"Ah, Kitty Jones," Werfel said softly, "How unfortunate that we have come to this. That you, who was once our muse, should become our enemy! So you thought you could invade this place with your hordes of demons, rescue your accomplice, and return to terrorizing this valley? You shall die."

"As I said before," Kitty said haughtily, "I am no magician. Yes, I came here to rescue your captive, but I certainly don't have hordes of demons. I've done nothing to harm you or this country, and neither has Mr. Button."

"No harm?" Werfel cried, "There have been demons running loose all over Siwa for the past six months. Shops have been looted, strong men killed. Only yesterday a child was gravely injured, and you say you've caused no harm?"

Kitty's mind was working furiously. So Werfel was upset about spirits in Siwa? She wondered if the recent attack she had faced was connected to all of this.

"Mr. Button and I have had no part in any of that!" Kitty said, "I don't know who's causing it, but it's certainly not me!"

Werfel frowned deeply.

"Ms. Jones, you have been living in Siwa for six months, yes? That was the time our troubles began…"

"Then I've been framed!" She cried desperately, "I'm as much a victim as you are!"

"Framed by who?" Asked Werfel, raising a quizzical eyebrow. He looked skeptical, but he was listening. Kitty was filled with a sudden hope.

"I'd like to know the answer to that question just as much as you would, sir." Kitty lifted her head to meet his eyes. "I've been attacked myself. Twice. Let my friends and I go free, and we will find the true culprit for you." Perhaps it was a long shot, but Kitty was willing to try anything. If someone truly was setting their spirits upon the innocents of Siwa, Kitty would have no misgivings about turning them over to this bunch of lunatics.

"You want me to set you free, trusting that you will do as you say? I think not," Werfel sneered. He stepped over Kitty's prone form, grasping his knife in his hand. He strode across the room to the place where Mr. Button was squirming against his bindings.

"Don't kill him!" Kitty cried.

Werfel held the knife poised above Mr. Button's throat. The magician was struggling to cry out, his wide eyes fixed on the blade. Kitty fought the impulse to squeeze her eyes shut. Werfel spoke calmly.

"Samir, let the girl and her creature go free."

Samir stepped back, allowing a bewildered Kitty to rise to her feet. The men surrounding Bartimaeus lowered their weapons and edged away.

"Please note that if either of you should attempt something foolish, your friend here will die," Werfel said.

"What do you want?" Kitty asked.

"My proposal is simple–One magician in exchange for another. Find me the man responsible for the demons, and I will let your friend go." Werfel smiled coldly. "But if you do not find him…"

Kitty's eyes narrowed.

"We _will_ find him. Come on Bartimaeus."

She gestured to the djinni and made for the exit. As she passed, Kitty attempted to give the dismayed Mr. Button a reassuring smile and nod. He grimaced. He probably imagined himself dead already. Kitty marched out of the temple, Bartimaeus at her side. In spite Mr. Button's misgivings, she felt a flicker of hope. How hard could this new task be?


	8. The Hunt

Chapter 7: The Hunt

By Conception.Creation

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is property of Jonathan Stroud.

A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Pkoholic, thanks for the muffin, I hope you continue to enjoy the story. Here's a longer chapter!

* * *

"There's one." I said quietly, lifting an arm to direct the gaze of the two girls on either side of me. 

Kitty, Piper, and I were loitering casually in the Siwa market square. In spite of the hot sun, the three of us had been standing there for nearly three hours, in vain hopes that one of our mysterious spirits would show up and obligingly lead us back to its master. Up until this very moment we hadn't had any luck.

"Where?" Asked Kitty, squinting her eyes against the mid-afternoon glare.

"There, beside the fruit stand." I pointed with more vigor.

The subject of my attention was a small beggar boy. He was sitting against a heavy crate, his twisted legs bound by filthy bandages.

"Come off it, Bartimaeus," Said Piper, "That poor little urchin?"

Said poor little urchin gave a hear-rending sniffle, holding out a worn tin mug to an obviously affluent passerby. The wealthy man dropped him a few coins, causing a thankful smile to light up the boy's innocent features. A touching scene–on the first three planes, that is.

On the fourth plane, the boy was quite obviously a particularly revolting form of imp. One of its yellow, spider-like limbs wrapped around the handle of the tin mug, while two of the others were rubbing together in devious anticipation. Its bloodshot eye was darting around the marketplace in an industrious search for that elusive perfect meal.

"Yep, definitely." I said, answering Piper.

The three of us crept closer. The sweet little beggar-boy had hobbled to his feet, and was now wobbling towards a plump-looking tourist. I wasn't quite sure whether he was aiming for alms, or just a quick lunch.

I wasn't destined to find out, either. Right at that moment a sturdy looking police officer ambled up to the boy and began to speak to him in harsh Siwan. I assume he was being reprimanded for pan-handling, or pick-pocketing. Or possibly even cannibalism. (The latter assuming the officer had unlikely powers of foresight.) Whatever the exchange was, it resulted in the boy's quick exit from the marketplace.

I glanced at Kitty, who gave me a wordless nod of agreement. The three of us quietly slipped off in the direction the imp had gone.

Our new imp friend walked ahead of us, unaware of the string of stealthy hunters that followed in his shadow like circling vultures. He turned aimlessly through the winding Siwan streets, picking up his pace until he was practically sprinting. We followed after as best we could.

We were approaching the edge of town now. The jewel-green palms were giving way to the rolling dunes of the Great Sand Sea. I could see the imp ahead of me, its crippled form leapt across the sandy hills with surprising agility. Ignoring the searing heat that reflected off the pale sand, I zipped after him. Ptolemy's feet were lost in a blur of motion.

Suddenly I realized my companions were no longer by my side. I wheeled around and glanced over my shoulder. The girls, not quite so nimble-footed as I, were fifty yards back, trudging resentfully through the knee-deep sand. I let the imp run on ahead, waiting for Kitty and Piper to catch up with me.

"About time," I said as they dragged themselves to the top of the dune where I waited. Kitty was panting heavily, and Piper's ratty hair was sticking to her sweaty forehead. They weren't going to be chasing anyone, anywhere. Once again, it was all up to me. I swiftly switched forms.

"Hop on," I commanded. Kitty's eyes widened in disbelief.

"I don't ride camels, Bartimaeus." she said.

I batted my long, camel eyelashes at her.

"I won't let you fall, come on."

After some rather amusing scrambling, the two were perched precariously on the camel's back. It took off at a loping pace, drawing closer to the poor crippled beggar, who was blazing through the desert with miraculous vitality. There was nothing but rolling desert dunes as far as the eye could see. My hooves kicked up hot, dusty sand as we passed further and further from Siwa and civilization. My passengers jolted up and down with each long stride.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Piper complained, "Why do you have to lurch around so much?"

"Hey," I said, "This is my first time as a camel. Operating these gangy legs is a lot harder then it looks. If you don't like it, you can walk."

Piper subsided into a sullen silence. Unfortunately it didn't last.

"We're in the middle of nowhere," Piper complained _again_, "Let's face it, this imp is not returning to its master any time soon."

Much as I hated to admit it, the girl was right. The imp had, by now, led us deep into the Western Desert. I seriously doubted we would find a magician lurking here.

"How about we try Plan B," I suggested, craning my neck around to see my passengers. A frustrated noise left Kitty's throat.

"We didn't think to make a Plan B." She said.

"Untrue," I said sagely, "Plan B is where our imp friend gives us some neighborly directions with the encouragement of a little mild physical persuasion."

"Physical persuasion?"

I was off before Kitty had a chance to admire the sophistication of my plan. The camel accelerated to speeds previously unknown in the natural world. My passengers clutched my neck, flapping about like flags in a strong gale. I caught up with the imp just as it reached a deep depression in the sand, overshadowed by hulking boulders. It wasn't until I'd rounded the bend that I realized my mistake.

I halted abruptly, causing the girls to tumble off my back and roll into the dust. The camel balanced on its knobby hind legs, crouching in a defensive pose. I looked around me.

Spirits of all shapes and sizes clogged the passage through the rocks. There must have been thirty or forty of them altogether. Spiky, blue imps; foliots sporting multiple arms; there were even a few mites in the crowd. (Why a magician could want a mite in his service I hardly dared to guess) The little imp we'd been chasing had taken its place beside a particularly potent-looking djinni, whose arms were crossed in a rather threatening manner. I couldn't believe I'd allowed this to happen. We had been ambushed.

We were in a tight spot, alright. Even a powerful spirit like me would think twice about taking on so many spirits, even minor ones. Kitty and Piper lay on the ground where they had fallen, probably afraid to move and call attention to themselves.

"I hope you haven't been bothering Tipkin here." Said the potent-looking djinni, who stood by the side of the little imp with the bandaged legs. The djinni was in the guise of a sinewy Thracian warrior. I was really not in the mood to fight him.

"Um, no," I answered, "We were just out for a nice desert stroll, here. We ought to be going, so–"

The warrior lifted a heavy brow. (It was studded with fancy golden baubles and pierced through with a sharpened bone. Too showy, if you ask me.)

"Terribly sorry," He said, "But now that you've seen us, we can't be letting you go."

The spirits around us leapt into action.

Imps flew at me from all sides. One met with a sharp blow from my cloven hoof, another was sent spiraling into the air with the aid of a well-aimed detonation. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Kitty punching the lights out of a minor foliot. Good for her.

Some djinni or other lobbed an inferno my way. I changed form, becoming a smaller target. The crackling blue magic sailed harmlessly over Ptolemy's head. I uprooted a nicely-sized boulder and sent it hurtling towards my assailant. The spirit was crushed beneath its formidable weight.

A tiny mite latched onto my toe with its pincer-like appendages. I looked down at it.

"You're going to have to try a bit harder than that, mate." I said. (Pointlessly, since such lowly beings are rarely capable of communication.) I was distracted by a sudden scream.

Piper was cowering in the sand, helpless against the bolts of magic flying back and forth through the air. Tipkin the beggar imp had crept up behind her, its arms raised, prepared to loose some fatal blast of magic. I crushed the mite beneath my foot, and bounded towards them, tossing a Convulsion at the imp. It was immediately surrounded by roving black bands of magic that shook it to pieces before Piper's astonished eyes.

"Thanks," She said. We stared at each other. It suddenly occurred to me that I had just rescued Rebecca Piper, a magician. If anyone found out about this, my reputation would be _over_.

An angry bellow sounded from behind me. I turned. Kitty was battling the Thracian warrior, from whom thunderous growls were emitting. The djinni charged towards her like a locomotive.

Kitty dodged the djinni's punch. Her face was set with that famous look of determination I knew so well.

"Who sent you?" She demanded.

The djinni made no answer. Green light burst from its fist as it sent a detonation hurtling towards the girl. The magic dissipated harmlessly around her.

"I am immune to your magic," Kitty declared, "Tell me who summoned you and I will let you live."

The djinni ignored the offer. It charged towards her, fists swinging. Kitty jumped out of the way, plunging her knife deep into the Thracian's bicep. The djinni howled in pain and rage.

"Who is your master?" Kitty cried with fury.

The djinni clutched its smoking arm. It narrowed its eyes and smiled menacingly, revealing a mouthful of broken teeth. It spoke, its voice deceptively polite.

"Why, _you_ are ma'am." It said.

That was not the answer Kitty was expecting. For a moment, she froze in surprise. It was all the djinni needed. With sickening horror, I watched as its clenched fist crashed into Kitty's slender frame, sending the girl hurtling through the air. She smashed into the side of a boulder, whacking her head and crumpling into a heap. Clouds of dust rose up around her still form. The Thracian warrior chuckled deeply.

His gleeful laughter was cut off by the furious yell of a small Egyptian boy that sailed through the air. I hurtled into him, latched onto his back and started jerking out fistfuls of his hair.

"Ow!" The djinni cried. He flailed out, trying to get a handle on the boy wrapped around his neck.

"I'm going to kill you! _Kill _you!" I cried. Not quite as eloquent as usual, but I was beside myself.

The djinni wrested me from his back and tossed me over his head. I skidded over the sandy ground and came to a rest near the spot where Kitty lay. The girl was unconscious, but still breathing.

The Thracian stepped towards me.

"You have been very foolish, little djinni." It rumbled, "Very, very foolish." It reached out towards me. I braced myself for the inevitable.

There was a whistling sound, and then a muted thwap as a bright silver missile passed through the Thracian's eye and out the other side of its head. The djinni crumpled instantaneously, its essence dissolving from the contact with silver. I looked over my shoulder. There Rebecca Piper stood, eyes wild, arm still outstretched from the follow-through of the silver disc she had thrown.

The spirits around us, imps for the most part, started back at the sight of their fallen leader. I propped myself up on an elbow and tossed a half-hearted inferno their way. It wasn't much, but it caused the spirits to break rank and retreat in all directions.

As our enemies fled, Rebecca and I rushed to Kitty's side. She was conscious now, her breaths coming in short, painful gasps. I knelt down and tentatively brushed aside a lock of the silvery hair that tangled around her face.

"Kitty," I said softly.

"I'm alright." She panted. Her face was pinched with pain.

"Alright?" I asked, "I'm surprised your limbs are still attached."

Rebecca gingerly lifted the hem of Kitty's shirt, revealing the angry purple bruises stretching across her torso. She pressed down gently, then quickly pulled her hand away at Kitty's agonized cry.

"Looks like a rib fracture," Rebecca said, "More then one, I suspect."

"No, I'm fine, just winded," Kitty insisted through teeth clenched against the pain. Rebecca smiled grimly and shook her head at Kitty. I grabbed Rebecca's arm and dragged her a few feet away.

"We have to get her out of here," I said, "The spirits will be regrouping as we speak."

Rebecca frowned.

"We can't move her right now. A broken rib could piece her lung. One of us should go back for help–"

"I will," I said, "No offense, but I'm way faster than you."

Rebecca crossed her arms.

"No, I should go," She countered, "If those spirits _do_ come back you'll need to be here to protect Kitty."

I nodded slowly, though I had my doubts concerning my most recent performance.

She turned to leave, skinny frame silhouetted against the sinking sun.

"Rebecca," I called after her, on an impulse.

She paused, turned around slowly.

"Nice shot." I said.

She grinned, gave a slight nod, and was running up the side of the sandy slopes towards Siwa.


	9. The Aftermath

Chapter 9: The Aftermath

By Conception.Creation

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is property of Jonathan Stroud

A/N: Thank you for your comments, my dear reviewers! Duckweed, I'm not so sure they didn't get _any_ information... you'll see! Nari, I'm really glad you enjoy the action-y bits, because I enjoy writing them! Here is the next chapter:

* * *

Kitty barely noticed Rebecca leave. It took all her focus just to force herself to breathe; a spasm of pain knifed through her chest with every shaky inhalation. Her skin felt unnaturally cold and clammy, even in the warm evening air. Bartimaeus knelt by her side. Kitty had never before seen such anxiety express itself in his features. She tried to reassure him with a crooked smile.

"How do you feel?" Bartimaeus asked.

"Do you have to ask?" She groaned.

Kitty closed her eyes and tried to even out her breathing. The blinding agony gradually subsided, leaving behind an aching throb. She cracked an eye open. Bartimaeus leaned in apprehensively. He seemed to be more worried then she, herself was.

"Calm down, I'm not going to fall apart," She teased.

He gave an indifferent shrug, though the tension in his posture eased.

"I didn't say you were going to."

"Well, your face was telling me a different story. Cheer up; you look terribly anxious. You're normally such a cocksure smart-aleck. I'd have thought if anyone would be confidant in the face of certain doom, it'd be you."

The djinni looked affronted.

"I'm not anxious!" He declared, brows knitting together, "I was whistling a merry tune at the siege of Athens during the Peloponnesian Wars, while the Athenians were dropping right and left from plague and starvation. When you compare it, this is nothing. We just have to sit around for a while and wait for that little magician to rescue us."

"How long do you think until Rebecca gets back?" Kitty asked.

The djinni shrugged.

"At least a couple of hours. She'd better hurry; it's going to be dark, soon."

The sun was descending in the West, casting a crimson light over the peaks of the sand-covered dunes. A smattering of stars flickered overhead in the vast, empty sky. The air was beginning to cool. Kitty fervently hoped that Rebecca would make it back to Siwa before the sun sunk out of sight, leaving only the moon and stars to light her way. Once night came it would be difficult, if not impossible, for the magician to find them.

Kitty studied the djinni beside her. He wasn't looking at her now. He gazed across the night landscape, eyes unfocused. The shimmer of the red sun reflected in his dark pupils. His fingers sifted absently through a handful of fine sand.

"What are you thinking?" She asked, almost without realizing she had spoken aloud.

The last tiny grains of sand trickled through his fingers. He closed his fist and glanced at her abruptly.

He suddenly grinned.

"Nothing you'd be able to comprehend."

Kitty lifted an eyebrow. She knew Bartimaeus too well to be insulted.

"Are you thinking about that djinni I fought?" She asked, "What it said to me?"

"It was bluffing," Bartimaeus said hurriedly, "Trying to catch you off guard."

"Well it worked," Kitty said with a wince, "If it hadn't been for Rebecca…"

Kitty trailed off, so humiliated by the memory of her own crushing defeat that she almost missed the djinni's muttered reply.

"Yeah, she's not so bad, I guess." He said.

Kitty stared. When had she missed _this_ change in opinion?

"Stop gawking at me like that or I'll change my mind," Bartimaeus said, taken aback by Kitty's gaping expression. He folded his arms defensively against his chest.

Kitty closed her mouth abruptly.

"Um, sorry. I'm just… surprised." She said. She shifted position and leaned against the boulder at her back, gritting her teeth against the searing pain that shook her every time she moved. There was a moment of silence. Girl and djinni sat side-by-side, the only sound the rattle of wind over desert. Finally, Bartimaeus spoke.

"Yes." He said, economically.

Kitty's face was comical in its confusion.

"Yes, what?" She demanded.

Bartimaeus tilted his head to the side. He wore an expression of exaggerated astonishment.

"Is your memory really so short? Poor girl."

"What are you talking about?"

"You asked me a question, remember. Whether I was thinking about what that spirit said to you."

"Yes, and we finished that part of our conversation." She said huffily.

"Well, I'm bringing it back up again. I think it might have been speaking truthfully."

Kitty's eyebrows went up.

"In case you've forgotten, it claimed _I_ was its master. I can inform you right now I haven't summoned a spirit in _years_. Not since you, in fact. And I think I would know whether–"

"Okay, okay," said Bartimaeus raising his hands as if to ward off her haranguing, "But what if you didn't realize you were doing it? You've got to admit, there's some pretty convincing evidence."

"Such as?"

"Well, your aura for one thing; it's not normal. Auras are pretty indicative of strange things that go on. Something funny is going on with yours, I'm positive about that."

Kitty bit her lower lip.

"But you told me that Ptolemy's aura was like this, too. I thought it was because I'd gone to the Other Place with you…"

"Yes, and I still think that's the reason," Bartimaeus scratched is head thoughtfully. "But who knows what the Other Place did to you, right? Ptolemy never lived long enough to figure out the long term consequences of what he did. Perhaps it's caused you to summon spirits unconsciously."

Kitty's forehead wrinkled.

"That sounds unlikely," She said.

"Think about it; Werfel told you this little spirit problem started when you moved here. Why would that happen unless you're the cause?"

"I don't know!" Kitty cried angrily, then hissed in pain and clutched her ribs as her aggravated wound protested. "This isn't my fault, Bartimaeus!"

The djinni leaned over and rubbed small circles on her back as she struggled to control the pain.

"It wouldn't be your fault either way." He said firmly.

Kitty leaned back and closed her eyes.

"I don't understand what's happening," She said softly. The djinni looked concerned.

"Why don't you just relax?" Bartimaeus suggested, "I'm probably not supposed to be getting you upset like this. You could sleep for a bit before Rebecca gets here. I'll keep an eye out for those spirits."

Sleep propped up against a boulder, with several fractured ribs poking at her insides? Why not?

The djinni made to rise, but Kitty caught his hand.

"Stay," She commanded, pulling him back down.

Bartimaeus looked down at their joined hands.

"If you insist," He said.

As he settled down beside her in the sand, Kitty let her eyes fall shut. She was exhausted from pain and exertion, and sleep came easy. Her breaths came deep and even as she drifted off into unconsciousness, her fingers still curled gently around those of the boy beside her.

* * *

I sat leaning against a boulder, beneath the open night sky, watching Kitty as she slept. Her head tilted sharply against her shoulder, her face turned up towards me. Her eyelashes fluttered slightly against her cheeks as she dreamt. The moonlight cast deep shadows against her expressive features, which were now relaxed in spite of her pain. A few strands of soft grey hair ticked her nose with every inhalation. I gently brushed the hair out of her face. I was lucky she was alive.

As my fingers brushed over her forehead, I noticed her skin seemed unusually warm. Was she getting feverish? I quite honestly didn't know anything about human medicine. It was hard to tell whether Kitty was suffering from some kind of complications. She needed to be looked after by someone who knew what they were doing, and the sooner the better.

I could hear something rumbling towards us. More spirits? I hopped to my feet.

By the light of the moon, I could make out a distant vehicle zipping over the dunes towards us. The sturdy 4x4 drew nearer kicking up clouds of sand, and finally pulling to a stop in front of me. Rescue had presumably arrived.

The passenger door slammed open, and out tumbled Rebecca Piper. I'd never been so happy to see anyone in my life.

"Nice timing," I called, walking forwards and waving cheerily at her, "I admit you had me wondering whether you'd make it back, but hey, you came through! Now let's get out of here…"

I trailed off as Rebecca straightened up and turned towards me, allowing the moonlight to fall upon her features. Her lip was split and still trickling blood, and a nice purple bruise was forming under one swollen eye. Her face was streaked with tears. She met my gaze, her face creased with despair.

"Rebecca?" I said, feeling uneasy.

Suddenly, the rest of our rescuers jumped from the vehicle, which rocked slightly from the loss of their weight. The six newcomers advanced. At their head stood a particularly tall man carrying an assault rifle.

"Well, well. We meet again," Said Samir.


	10. The Escape

Chapter 10: The Escape

By Conception.Creation

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus trilogy is property of Jonathan Stroud

A/N: Nari, thank you for both your reviews! It's great to have you reading my story, I'm glad you're excited about it. If only more people would review: (

* * *

Several cold-blooded cult members and one weepy British girl loomed in front of me. I took a discrete step back towards Kitty, who was still slumbering unaware in the sand. I wasn't sure what these blokes were up to, but I knew I had to get her out of there. A gloating smile plastered itself over the mountainous Samir's ugly mug. He lifted his weapon, pointing it straight at Ptolemy's head.

"Silver bullets," He said, "Move and your dead."

This seemed like a good time for diplomacy.

"Hey," I said affably, "Easy with that thing. I thought we had a deal here. We look for the magician, you leave us alone, remember?"

Samir sneered.

"Save your lies, demon. This little witch told us everything!"

Everything? What was he talking about? I looked over at Rebecca. As I understood it, there wasn't much to tell.

Rebecca stumbled forward and let out a woeful wail, which didn't really do much for my newborn respect for her. She started gibbering nearly incoherently.

"Bartimaeus, I am so sorry! It's not my fault, I couldn't help it! They hurt me, and I told them! I'm sorry!" She blubbered.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"About Kitty!" She wailed, "I told them about Kitty; that she's the magician!"

Uh oh, the stupid chit had blabbed about the Thracian djinni's incredible claim. That was unlikely to soothe the big, crazy man's bloodlust. But all was not necessarily lost.

"Err, that?" I said, "That's ridiculous, don't believe everything you hear. The spirit was obviously trying to make a distraction." It might have even been true. I had my suspicions, yes, but we djinn aren't really known for our honesty. This could all be one big misunderstanding.

Unfortunately, Samir seemed unconvinced.

"You made fools of us, convincing us that you were not a threat. If we hadn't come across this pathetic excuse for a magician–" Here he gestured towards Rebecca, who I admit, did look rather unimpressive in her tearful dishevelment, "–You would have returned to your evil, destructive ways. But now I know the truth! We shall destroy you!"

Samir pointed his weapon towards Kitty's prone form. I was _not_ about to let the man shoot her, not after she had just managed to survive a close run in with a powerful spirit. I stepped in front of her, arms crossed. I did my best to look intimidating.

"You think I shall have any difficultly destroying you, djinni?" The large man laughed, "These bullets will pierce through your essence with ease. And after you are dead, I shall kill the girl too!"

For a moment, I was certain I was about to die. I braced myself for the inevitable gunshots and subsequent pain. But nothing happened. Samir was looking over my shoulder, eyes fixated on something behind me. I turned around slowly, pretty sure that I wasn't going to like what I saw.

It was Kitty herself that was the centre of attention. A strange, iridescent glow was radiating off her skin almost, but not quite, like an aura. She twitched and writhed in her sleep, as though she was trying to escape from her own flesh. The light emanating from her body seemed to pulse and intensify and take on a life of its own. It stretched and squeezed itself out from her pores, gathering around her. Kitty's own aura spun with a million dazzling colours. Strange energies poured from her body and sizzled outwards, raising the hairs on my arms and crackling in the hot air around us.

I watched with horrified fascination as the light finally extricated itself from Kitty's body and coalesced above her head. As it took a solid shape, it was now obvious what it was.

A tiny imp had formed from the pulsating light. Fresh from the Other Place, it had somehow used Kitty's body as a conduit to Earth, pushing itself out of her very skin. Right in front of Samir and his posse, too. The imp took a moment to get its bearings, then burst into action, hurtling itself towards the biggest target in the area…Samir.

The imp sailed towards the man, claws extended. It gave a hideous screech, jaws gaping wide…Then Rat-tat-tat! The sound of a firing weapon. The imp was obliterated by a flock of silver-coated bullets that punctured its essence with a burning cold that I could feel all the way over from where I stood. The imp's life-essence dispersed with a faint pop. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kitty as she jumped a foot in the air, finally woken by the commotion.

I looked at Kitty. I looked at Samir. This was not good.

Samir aimed his weapon at Kitty. His latest brush with the supernatural hadn't fazed him in the least. Kitty, for her part, looked utterly dazed. Her aura was churning again, like it had done back at Birket Siwa when she'd had her bizarre nightmare.

"What's going on here?" Asked Kitty faintly. The poor girl looked terribly pale and worn out, whether from her injury or from her recent stint as a channel to another realm, I can not say.

Samir was all compassion.

"I was just about to kill you." He said.

Kitty's eyes widened in alarm.

"But I thought–"

"You thought we'd come to an arrangement? Why yes, we did. And you delivered, in a way. Thank you for bringing me the magician responsible." He grinned humorlessly.

Kitty's questioning eyes landed on me, looking for some kind of explanation.

"Erm, what Samir's trying to say is that I was right, you're the magician we've been looking for." I said, "You've been acting as some kind of portal to the Other Place as you sleep. Piper over there ratted you out."

Rebecca hung her head. A myriad of Kitty's volatile expressions danced over her face as she tried to wrap her head around the situation she had awoken to. Samir interrupted her contemplation.

"So if you're up to speed now, I'll be taking you back with me. Werfel will be _most_ interested to hear of this new development. I didn't know a portal between worlds was possible."

It was time to go.I moved fast, mindful of Samir's silver-loaded weapon. As I hurtled towards Kitty I sent off a dazzling Illumination. I closed my eyes as the white hot light burst from my fingertips. While everyone was blinking the stars from their eyes I wrapped my arms tightly around Kitty and zoomed away over the desert sand, zigzagging to avoid Samir's furious bullets, shot blindly in a wide circle around him. He was lucky he didn't hit any of his companions.

Kitty screeched in pain, but it was no use worrying about her ribs now. If I didn't get us away she'd have more to worry about then a punctured lung.

"After them!" Called Samir, apparently recovering. I heard the roar of the ignition of the 4x4 behind me. The vehicle shot over the smooth sandy ground in hot pursuit of us. Samir and Co. leaned out the windows, firing away at the flying boy and the shrieking girl that he carried.

Modern technology was no match for this djinni, however. I was outpacing them, nearly reaching the narrow gap in the crop of boulders that marked the exit of the valley we'd been trapped in. The sound of gunshots faded into the distance as I flew on towards it.

But something was wrong. I could sense some kind of presence ahead of us. I sifted through the planes, looking for the source of the disturbance. Oh no.

Our spirit friends had chosen this moment to regroup. There seemed to be more now than ever, though their true number was hidden by a hazy black concealment that was just now beginning to fade away. I heard Kitty gulp as the leering spirits became visible on the plane she had access to.

I dropped to the ground and released Kitty. She doubled over, clutching her chest and hissing in pain. There was no way she would be able to fight her way out of this.

Behind us the sound of gunfire was drawing closer. Samir and his buddies were catching up. We had nowhere to turn to.

Kitty placed a hand on my shoulder. Her eyes were dark and serious.

"Bartimaeus," Kitty said, speaking slowly, "There's no way out, and I can barely move as it is. But you… you don't have to die here. You can escape to the Other Place."

I glared at her.

"Not you too!" I said. Why does everyone I care about end up giving up their lives for me? I couldn't bear any more of that kind of pain. And to be perfectly honest, I had the feeling that Kitty's death would be the most painful of them all.

"Please, Bartimaeus." Kitty pleaded, "We haven't got much time. There's nothing you can do here. If you go at least one of us can live on." She gave a sad smile.

"No!" I cried, pulling away from her, "I've had enough of this 'Let's sacrifice ourselves for Bartimaeus' fad. You set me free; you can't force me to go if I refuse. If you go down, I'm going down too."

Tears gathered in the corners of Kitty's eyes.

"I don't want you to die," She whispered.

"And I don't want _you_ to die," I answered earnestly, "But Kitty, death right now beside you is better by far then spending the next five hundred years wondering if I could have saved you. Trust me, I know from experience."

Kitty's smile was wobbly. She took my hand gently in her own.

"We die together then?"

"Together." I repeated.

The crowd of spirits drew towards us. Sticky drool dripped from a dozen hungry jaws. Narrow eyes glimmered in anticipation. I clutched Kitty's hand tightly. So this was how it was going to end, then? After five thousand years? Suddenly Kitty straightened up, her voice urgent.

"Bartimaeus, I'm the one who summoned these spirits here, yes?"

I grimaced.

"Pretty much. I'm eternally grateful for that, by the way."

Kitty frowned in concentration, her eyes never leaving the motley horde of creatures loping towards us.

"Maybe we don't have to die today," She said.

Before I could ponder her statement, she stepped out to meet the advancing spirits. Her posture changed, she stood taller. Behind us the 4x4 pulled up. I didn't even care about them at this point. Getting shot was hardly as upsetting as being swallowed by a ravenous djinni.

"Spirits!" Kitty shouted, "I have a charge for you!"

Some of the entities in the front ranks slowed their advance. Kitty continued, encouraged.

"I command you to attack the men in that vehicle," Kitty called, pointing towards Samir and his men.

The spirits sped up, rushing past us and falling upon the men. They cried out in surprise, letting loose a burst of gunfire. A few spirits fell, crumbling away into ashes after being pumped with silver. Then utter chaos. The spirits ripped into the vehicle. Bullets, twisted pieces of metal from the 4x4, and even a limb or two went sailing through the sky.

"Clever," I said, pulling Kitty to me once again and springing into the air.

"Where are you going?" Kitty asked, arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I was flying in the wrong direction, back towards the boulders where we had first been ambushed.

"We've left something behind," I said, turning round a bend. The forlorn figure of Rebecca Piper came into view. Samir had abandoned her when we had tried to make our escape.

I swooped down, using my free hand to grab Rebecca by the collar of her shirt. She gave a surprised yelp before realizing who it was that had abducted her.

With both girls firmly in hand I swung back around, rocketing out of the valley back towards Siwa, leaving the cacophony of feral roars and gunfire far behind us.


	11. The Explanation

Chapter 10: The Explanation

By Conception.Creation

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the property of Jonathan Stroud

A/N: Thank you for your wonderful reviews! We'll be approaching the climax of this story in a few more chapters. Nari, I hope you feel better soon!

* * *

"I'm really not supposed to do this, but it'll help with the pain."

Kitty winced as Rebecca wound a strand of adhesive tape tightly around her ribs. After their dramatic escape, Rebecca had insisted on taping Kitty's ribs, seeing as it didn't look like Kitty would be getting any medical attention soon. At least this way she would be mobile.

The lonely call of a jackal pierced the cool night air. Rebecca fumbled nervously with the roll of tape, her eyes darting around at their surroundings.

"This place is creepy," She complained, pulling off another piece of tape.

Kitty agreed. Bartimaeus had deposited them deep in the ruins of Shali, an abandoned honeycomb of crumbling mud-brick buildings that towered above the town of Siwa. Everything was indistinct in the pale moonlight, which cast its eerie silver glow on the posts of empty black doorways. Kitty would much rather have been at home, but of course that was the first place Werfel was bound to look for her. Even Bartimaeus was no comfort. He was perched on the edge of a crumbing wall in the form of an eagle owl. His yellow eyes gleamed in the darkness, like a ghost in the shadows.

Rebecca let out a long sigh.

"Kitty, Bartimaeus, I just want to say, I'm really sorry about what happened. I gave you up, like a sniveling coward. Thank you for rescuing me anyways… I wasn't expecting that. It won't happen again, I promise you."

Kitty smiled and patted her arm.

"Hey, I wasn't going to leave you there," Bartimaeus said.

"What happened," Kitty asked, "How did they find you?"

Rebecca folded her arms around her.

"Dumb luck," She said, "I had just made it back to Siwa, when I ran into those men. They knew I was a magician the moment they laid eyes on me. They kicked me around, thought I was the one they were looking for."

"They're quite liberal with that accusation," Bartimaeus inserted.

Rebecca continued.

"They threatened to kill me. I was scared, so I said that it wasn't me they wanted. Then I told them what that djinni said," Rebecca hung her head, "They forced me to lead them to you."

"What exactly did you tell them?" Kitty asked.

"I told them the spirits had claimed that you were their master. I didn't know they were bursting out of you like fireworks… we got a live demonstration of _that_."

"Too bad you were asleep for it," Bartimaeus added, ruffling his feathers, "Pretty spectacular stuff, it was."

Kitty grimaced.

"How long has this been happening?" Rebecca asked, cocking her head to the side.

"I don't know," Kitty replied, "Bartimaeus, didn't you say you figure it's been happening ever since I visited the Other Place?"

The owl hooted its affirmation.

Rebecca stiffened. The roll of tape dropped from her numb fingers.

"You visited the Other Place?" She asked incredulously. Her eyes were wide with disbelief.

"You didn't know?" Kitty replied, "It's not a secret. It happened during the demon rebellion."

Rebecca shook her head, her brown hair fluttering wildly around her face.

"You never told me about that! I thought Ptolemy's Gate was purely theoretical."

"Bartimaeus and I managed it," Kitty said, her voice tinged with pride, "My aura's supposedly been unusual ever since."

Rebecca rocked back on her heels, eyeing Kitty speculatively.

"Kitty, how closely did you read the _Apocrypha_ before making the trip?" She asked.

"Um, I had a magician summarize it for me after he skimmed the pages." Probably not the wisest choice, but they had been strapped for time. Her impulsiveness had resulted in a few unexpected side-effects, her premature aging, for example. It had been a small price to pay. She knew she would make the same decision one thousand times over if ever she was given the chance to do it over.

Rebecca smacked her forehead with a groan.

"You can't fool around with that kind of magic!" She cried, "Bartimaeus, you should know better then that!" Rebecca turned to glare at the djinni.

"Hey, don't look at me; I wasn't there!" Bartimaeus protested.

Rebecca sighed. Her expression became solemn as she leaned in towards Kitty.

"If you'd actually done some proper research, you wouldn't be in this situation," She said, "Many magicians have tried to invoke the Gate. All died. Any passageway through the elemental barriers of the Universe is inherently unstable. Theoretically, the only way a passage to the Other Place could be safely formed would be to shelter the gate within the magician's own body." Rebecca's eyes narrowed, "Of course, no magician would be foolish enough to turn _themselves_ into a gateway to another dimension."

"What are you saying Rebecca?" Kitty's voice wavered. Did she mean…

Rebecca crossed her arms.

"What I'm saying is, for all intents and purposes, you _are_ Ptolemy's Gate."

"Are you serious?" Kitty exclaimed.

"You've unwittingly created a portal within yourself. I suppose when you sleep you loose conscious control of the Gate and demons pop out of you left, right, and centre. Think about how many loose spirits we've seen!"

"It certainly explains why the Other Place has been so deserted lately," Bartimaeus said. He didn't seem terribly disconcerted by this new information.

"How do I get rid of this?" Kitty asked Rebecca. If this was true, she was nothing more than a walking disaster! She trembled, remembering the horrible destruction of the demon rebellion last year. The free spirits had ransacked the entire city of London in the space of a few hours. They had only been foiled by the brave magician who had sacrificed his life for commoner and magician alike.

Rebecca shrugged.

"How should I know? This has never happened before! Maybe we could find something in the _Apocrypha_…"

Bartimaeus cleared his throat.

"You can worry about all that later," He said fluttering down from his perch and landing in front of Kitty, "There's a much more pressing issue at hand. The two of you have to get out of this city right away. Werfel's not going to be happy when he finds out what happened. We can probably stay here till dawn, but then you need to get on the bus to Alexandria. Kitty needs medical attention, and then you can fly back to Britain from there."

Kitty frowned.

"You want me to leave Egypt?"

"You haven't got a choice," Bartimaeus replied, "Maybe you can come back when all this blows over, but for now–"

"But what about Mr. Button? If any of Samir's men make it back to Werfel, his life will be in danger. We have to help him."

"Live to fight another day, Kitty," Bartimaeus advised, "You're hurt, and tired, and a portal to the spirit realm. You can come back and help him when you're ready. There's nothing you can do right now."

"But–"

"I mean it Kitty. If you go back there, you'll die. I don't want anything to happen to you. Promise me you'll stay here."

"But–"

"_Please_ Kitty." His eyes bore into hers.

Kitty looked away.

"I promise," She said.

* * *

It was several hours to dawn. Kitty quietly stepped over Rebecca's sleeping form and eased her way down the narrow corridor leading to the main part of the city. She glanced overhead at the form of the owl circling high above, silhouetted against the stars. He was watching for approaching danger, but hopefully Kitty could slip past unseen. She only wished she could say good bye, for she knew in her heart she'd never see him again. 

"I'm sorry Bartimaeus," She whispered softly, "But I have to do this."


	12. The Capture

Chapter 11: The Capture

By Conception.Creation

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the property of Jonathan Stroud

A/N: Sofia, Nari, thank you for your reviews! Nari, I figured you must be Nari-nick. You're a wonderful author, keep up the good work! Sofia, thanks for taking the time to review. I'm glad you're enjoying the story, and I hope you like this next part!

* * *

Dawn was breaking as Kitty trudged up the pathway towards the Temple of the Oracle, shoulders hunched and head down. She was going to her death; she had no doubt about it. In a few short hours, Kathleen Jones would cease to exist. She halted her assent to take in the growing glow of the horizon. Was this her last sunrise? She wrapped her arms protectively around her. She was doing the right thing. She couldn't abandon Mr. Button, no matter what Bartimaeus said. She took a deep breath and forced herself onwards.

She was nearing the top, when her foot caught on a loose stone, sending her sprawling on the rocky ground. Kitty cried out in pain as her ribs protested in agony. She pushed herself up gingerly and gulped down several deep breaths to clear her head.

"Who's there?" A voice called out gruffly. A guard dislodged himself from his perch near the entrance to the temple and strode down towards her. Swallowing the pain, Kitty straightened up and met his eye.

"I'm Kitty Jones," She declared simply, "I'm here to see Herman Werfel."

The guard gaped at her a moment, then grabbed her roughly by the shoulder and pulled her towards the temple entrance. The people milling around the temple courtyard stopped to stare as Kitty marched past, head held high.

They entered the temple, where two men stood speaking in low tones. One was small and grandfatherly, while the other was extraordinarily tall and foreboding.

"You!" Cried Samir, standing slightly behind Werfel and looking a bit singed from their last encounter. Werfel whirled around at Samir's outburst. Seeing Kitty, he grinned widely and stalked towards her.

"My, my, Kathleen Jones," He said, "What a surprise! I'd have thought you long gone by now."

Kitty's eyes narrowed.

"I've come to uphold my end of the bargain. We agreed to exchange Harold Button's freedom for that of the magician responsible for the loose djinn in Siwa. Well, here I am."

Werfel smirked.

"You would give up your own life in exchange for Button's?" He asked.

"Yes," Kitty hissed.

Werfel's smirk grew. He circled Kitty slowly, like a cat teasing its prey.

"In that case, I must regretfully inform you that Mr. Harold Button passed away quite suddenly last night."

"What? What are you saying?" She cried. Mr. Button had been fine last time she'd seen him.

"We felt his presence was no longer useful, due to certain facts which have recently come to light. Now, now, don't look so stricken. We really had no other choice. How were we to know you planned to return to us?"

Kitty's heart sank.

"You killed him," she whispered.

"I'm afraid so. Your valiant sacrifice has sadly gone to waste. Unfortunately, the payment we agreed upon must still be exacted. We can't let a magician as dangerous as yourself loose, you understand." Without turning, Werfel addressed the man behind him. "Samir, if you will." He called.

Kitty struggled violently as Samir clamped down on her shoulders, preventing her escape.

"In fact," Werfel continued, "Your little predicament may be of great use to our higher goals."

"I'll _never_ cooperate with you," Kitty spat. Werfel chuckled.

"Fortunately, your cooperation has little to do with our plan," He said. He began to pace pensively back and forth in front of her. "You see, Ms. Jones, our little society has always held one particular aim. Many of us are simple common folk from magical countries, who have suffered unfairly at the hands of the magicians. We refuse to suffer any longer. Yes, the British Empire has fallen, but how long until the next empire arises from its ashes? Magic has not ended. You know this Kitty Jones; I can see it in your eyes."

Kitty couldn't meet his gaze. She had devoted a great portion of her life to finding a way to break the cycle of history. Was Werfel right? Had she failed to change anything? Werfel continued.

"And so," He said, changing tone, "Our group was founded. We disaffected souls have committed ourselves to addressing the problem of magic right its heart. If we succeed in destroying the spirits of the Other Place, magicians will no longer have a source of power. Our task has been long and wearisome. At times it has seemed as though we would never be able to make the slightest dent in the ranks of the djinn. In fact, as untrained commoners, we had no way to destroy demons at all. That is, until we discovered this marvelous pentacle."

Werfel gestured to the Oracle's ancient pentacle, carved into the very stones beneath their feet. Perhaps Kitty's imagination was heightened by the intensity of her fear, but it felt as though something was radiating from those crude symbols. Some long forgotten power, newly awoken and infinitely dangerous.

Werfel noticed her apprehension, his face twisting into an expression of smug pleasure.

"Ah, you can sense its power," He said, "It is an old magic, that much we know. Somehow, this pentacle allowed us to perform great feats of magic, using only the simplest of commands. Djinn could be destroyed, even without any disobedience on their parts. And with a few simple preparations, we shall be able to use its power to accomplish our objective in one great blow. That is where you come in my dear."

Kitty scowled.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," She said.

"Ms. Jones, you serve as a channel between our world and the one beyond. Using the magic of this pentacle, we shall be able to draw forth, through you, the energies of the demon realm and collapse it, destroying the demons and their abode in one swift stroke! The Other Place will be gone, cutting off magicians from their source of magic, and all earthbound djinn from their place of rest. I'm afraid that we will be forced to kill you to facilitate the processes, but you can rest easy knowing that your sacrifice will serve the greater good."

"You're mad!" Kitty shrieked, "You want to _destroy_ the Other Place? The Spirits aren't to blame for being enslaved to the magicians! They don't deserve to die!" She thought of Bartimaeus, probably searching frantically for her this very moment. What would happen to him if he could never return home? After years and years of agonizing life on Earth, would he just wither away?

Werfel shook his head.

"Now, now Ms. Jones," He said, speaking as though she were a small child in need of instruction, "This isn't about who deserves to die and who doesn't. This is about what's best for civilization. It's a higher goal."

"Who gives you the right to decide what's best for civilization?" She exclaimed incredulously. Werfel ignored her.

"Samir, please keep Ms. Jones somewhere safe while we prepare for the incantation. We wouldn't want to lose her now, would we?"

Kitty cried out as Samir tugged her roughly out of the room.

"Don't think I've forgotten our little feud," Samir hissed in her ear as he marched her back down the rocky mountain path, "You're going to regret that stunt in the desert."

Samir pulled open the door of a worn stone outbuilding and shoved her inside.

"Try and escape, and I'll kill you," He said, slamming the door behind him. Kitty could hear the clatter of loose rock as he settled onto the ground outside the door. No escaping then.

Kitty paced back and forth within her makeshift prison cell. There were no windows, no obvious exits aside from the one Samir guarded. She was trapped here.

With a scream of frustration, Kitty sank to the floor. Mr. Button had been killed, Bartimaeus was doomed, and the Other Place was as good as gone. How had everything gone so horribly wrong?

She looked doubtfully at her shoelaces, wondering if she could somehow use them to strangle herself. If she died now before Werfel could complete whatever ritual he needed to complete, at least the Other Place would be safe. She was halfway through unstringing her left shoe when an angry voice caught her ear.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Samir's voice was muffled by the heavy door. There was a thump and a muffled curse.

"Come back here!" Samir called out. Kitty could hear the sounds of two sets of feet scrambling over the stony ground. There was a moment of silence. Suddenly the door crashed open with a resounding bang.

There was Bartimaeus, silhouetted against the bright daylight. Kitty had never been so relieved in her entire life.

She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into his neck.

"Kitty, you're alright!" The djinni exclaimed.

"Bartimaeus!" Kitty sobbed, "They've killed Button, and they're going to destroy the Other Place somehow! And Samir's alive–"

"I wouldn't worry about him," Bartimaeus interrupted, "Rebecca is leading dearest Samir on a bit of a wild goose chase. Rather irresponsible of him to leave you locked up here all by yourself, wouldn't you say?"

Kitty sobbed harder in response. Bartimaeus patted her back awkwardly.

"It's going to be okay," He said, "We'll get you back to London, and this will all blow over."

"I should have listened to you," She whispered, "But no, I _had_ to be the hero…"

"You can't help being noble, Kitty," Said Bartimaeus.

Kitty looked up, surprised by the compliment. Bartimaeus met her eyes solemnly. She felt a sudden warm joy that he was here, alive. That he had come back for her. She leaned in slowly, as though caught in a current drawing her towards him. Her eyes drifted shut, and then–

"The prisoner is loose!" Yelled a voice, jolting Kitty out of whatever spell she'd been under.

From her position by the doorway, Kitty could see a handful of guards sprinting down the slope towards them. One held something small, round, and glowing clenched in his fist. Kitty's eyes boggled.

"Bartimaeus! It's–" But she was too late.

The guard hurled the elemental sphere towards them. The glass orb whistled through the air and shattered at their feet. A concussion of molten energy knocked Kitty off her feet and blinded her with its light. Waves of burning fire and icy water burst over her in a maelstrom of conflicting magic, and Kitty knew no more.

* * *

The young guard waited till the smoke and steam had cleared before venturing into the shallow crater his weapon had left behind. He picked his way across the jagged earth, finally reaching the small figure sprawled out, alone, on the ground. Behind him, his comrades followed, stumbling over the uneven turf. 

The guard looked down at the limp form of the unconscious girl. She looked vulnerable. Even out cold, her face was tense with pain and weakness. He prodded her feeble body with one foot.

"Wasn't there another one?" He said absently to his companions behind him.

"Coward must have got away," One man sneered, "No matter, she's the one we need."

With a dismissive shrug, the first guard slung Kitty's body over his shoulder and climbed up the temple path. Above them Herman Werfel stood waiting, ready for the girl's sacrifice to complete his ritual.


	13. The Ritual

Chapter 12: The Ritual

By Conception.Creation

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the property of Jonathan Stroud

A/N: Much love to those who reviewed. I can't tell you how excited I was to receive an unprecedented four reviews for the last chapter! This next chapter is short, but hopefully still enjoyable.

* * *

Kitty's head lolled back and forth as her lifeless form was borne up the hill. Several guards followed in solemn procession, gripping their weapons tighter and keeping a watchful eye out for their two missing foes. At the temple gate, Werfel stood watching their progress, his expression victorious.

"The girl tried to escape, but we captured her," said the man carrying Kitty. He flung her limp body to the dusty ground at Werfel's feet.

"Good work," Said Werfel, crouching down to inspect the helpless girl. He gently slapped the sides of her face. "Wake up Ms. Jones," He commanded.

A pained moan escaped Kitty's lips as she began to come around. Her breathing became shallower and more erratic, then her eyes fluttered opened as she gazed blearily up at Werfel's face.

"Bartimaeus?" She mumbled.

"Not quite," Werfel said, a wry smile ghosting across his face. He leaned in even closer. Kitty stared at him, wide-eyed. "You seem a bit disoriented my dear. I really think you may be concussed. I would recommend seeing a physician, except that you will be dead within the hour nonetheless." Werfel's smile lengthened.

Suddenly he stood.

"Bring her to the pentacle; we have wasted enough time already." He commanded.

Rough hands grabbed Kitty's arms and forced her to her feet. She was propelled through the temple courtyard and into the dark interior. Inside, she could make out the gentle pulsing glow of the Pentacle of the Oracle, its aura of power so great that it hung in the stagnant air, like a repulsive smell.

On the floor around the pentacle, sprigs of rosemary and rowan lay scattered haphazardly. Long, thin, candles burned at even intervals along the edge of the pentacle. Werfel's followers were gathered around the ancient runes in a half circle. They stared back at Kitty with blank faces.

Someone stepped from the crowd, bearing a thick length of cord in one hand. He pulled Kitty's hands behind her back and secured them tightly, before pushing her out into the centre of the pentacle. Kitty stumbled, but remained standing, glaring defiantly at her captors.

Werfel crossed the line of runes, coming to stand beside Kitty. He turned to address his fellows.

"My friends, join me now as we end an eternity of subjugation," He shouted, "At last the wicked shall be destroyed, and our lands will once again be filled with peace! With the death of this magician, all magic shall die forever, and we shall be free!"

There was a burst of applause around the room. A few gleeful cheers rang out. Werfel held up a hand.

"And now we do our solemn duty," he said as the clapping died away. He raised his arms, as though conducting an unseen orchestra.

The observers joined hands and slowly began to chant the words of a spell. Kitty stood rooted in place, transfixed by the shadowy sea of faces surrounding her. Something glinted in Werfel's hand as he took a step closer towards her. It was a simple knife made of pure gold.

Werfel raised the knife. Its sickly yellow blade shone in the flickering candlelight. The frenzied chanting intensified as it arced down, towards the girl's vulnerable heart.

Kitty cried out as it met its mark, sinking hilt deep into her chest. The girl crumpled to the floor, her head striking the flagstones with a resounding smack. She lay sprawled out, unmoving, in the centre of the pentacle.

Werfel stood over the girl's lifeless body, his face contorted into an expression of pure triumph. The spell climaxed. The chanters fell silent.

They waited motionless around the pentacle, breaths held, listening for some kind of apocalyptic roar as an entire universe collapsed.

All was silent.

"Why isn't it working?" Asked a hushed voice, whispered from amongst the ranks of silent watchers.

Suddenly, Kitty stirred. They watched in frozen horror as the pale girl slowly mounted to her feet. She turned towards Werfel, snapping her bonds as easily as though they were cobwebs. Her face broke into a monstrous grin.

Werfel took a timid step back, holding his knife outstretched before him in one shaky hand. Kitty's teeth gleamed eerily in the gloom of the temple.

"What _are_ you?" Werfel cried out.

The girl laughed a deep, hair-raising chuckle that certainly did not belong to Kathleen Jones, or any other Earthly being for that matter.

As the laughter reverberated through the room, Kitty's face began to change. Her round face and nose melted away to reveal different, sharper, features. The silvery hair grew shorter and darker, and the pale skin took on the healthy tan of a native Egyptian. Only the eerie Cheshire grin remained the same, bright white teeth shining out from the triumphant face of Ptolemy.

Damn, I'm good.

I bet I had you there, didn't I? You thought I'd jumped ship and left Kitty to fend for herself? Honestly, I'm insulted!

After the explosion, I'd taken Kitty's form and allowed myself to be captured. I only hoped the girl had taken advantage of the opportunity to escape.

Okay, okay, maybe it was a bit of an unusual decision for me. Maybe I wouldn't have done the same for just _anyone._ Well, you never know, maybe I would have. I think I've been softening a bit recently… Kitty does that to you. Nevertheless, judging from the angry faces around me, I would not be around for all these nice ponderings much longer.

Werfel tossed his golden blade to the floor. He snatched an honest silver weapon from the man beside him and leveled it at my head. Let me tell you, there's something about silver that makes even the frailest little old man seem like a formidable adversary. I can't say I was afraid _per se_, what I felt was more like resignation.

"Where is the girl?" Werfel hissed. I shrugged. I really didn't know at this point, and of course I wouldn't have told him if I had.

"You are of no use to me," Werfel said, "Goodbye, demon." He pulled back his arm in preparation for the strike.

So this was it, then.


	14. The Awakening

Chapter 13: The Awakening

By Conception.Creation

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the property of Jonathan Stroud

A/N: Reviewers, you are fabulous! Thank you for taking the time to tell me what you think of the story! By the way guys, next chapter is the big finale. After that there will be a short epilogue. I can't believe I've made it this far, and I know I couldn't have done it without you all!

* * *

Kitty awoke to the pale gold swirl of the late afternoon sunlight drifting through the dust motes in the air above her. She let her head fall to the side, noting with detachment that her left arm was pinned under a remarkably heavy heap of rubble. She blinked. 

Rubble and grime shot up Kitty's nose as she took a breath. She fell into a fit of painful coughing, raising the dust on her face and clothes. Her chest burned like fire. She slowly stood to her feet, bits of rubble and dirt sliding off her and skittering across the ground. She took an experimental step, lurching like a drunkard in her dazed state.

Finally, gaining her bearings, she glanced around her. What had for a short time been her holding cell was now no more then a heap of rock in a shallow crater. Kitty remembered the blast of the Elemental Sphere. It must have been a particularly strong one to have caused this much destruction. Despite the throbbing pain in her arm, Kitty supposed she had been lucky to be buried in the wreckage, as it appeared that her captors had failed to notice her because of it.

So then, where were Bartimaeus and Rebecca? Had they been captured? Buried? Did they escape? Kitty climbed over the fallen stones, desperate for a familiar face.

A bright gleam caught her eye. An ancient, dusty stone structure stood a little to her left. In olden times it must have served as some sort of storage area for the Temple of the Oracle, but now it was decrepit and grey, its wooden door worn and notched. Yet embedded into the door's weathered surface was a decidedly modern-looking lock. Large, brass, and quite garish, it stood out like a polar bear on a tropical beach.

Kitty crept up to the building, immediately suspicious. What on Earth had Werfel decided to lock up in here? Should she dare free it?

_The enemy of my enemy is my friend._ She reminded herself.

Kitty selected a heavy stone from the gravely path beneath her feet, and brought it down hard on the door fastening. The cheap metal lock snapped easily and fell to the ground. She cautiously pushed the door open, squinting as she peered into the darkness.

In the dark, she could just make out the blurry outline of some indistinct shape. It stirred, roused by the sudden influx of light from the doorway. Kitty crept up to it cautiously. A pained moan sounded in the darkness. The sound of it was vaguely familiar.

"Mr. Button?" Kitty whispered. The shadowy lump squirmed in affirmation.

She groped in the darkness, her fingers brushing across a knot of fabric. A gag. She fumbled with the cloth, finally managing to pull it away from the elderly magician's face.

"Ms. Jones? Is that you?" Mr. Button whispered, his voice hoarse with disuse.

"Yes! Yes, it's me!" Kitty replied, overcome with relief, "I though you were dead!"

"I've almost been thinking that myself," he said faintly, "It feels like I've been here forever."

"It's been nearly two days," Kitty replied. She placed her hand gently on his shoulder, "I'm glad you're alright. Now we need to get out of here right away."

"I'm tied up."

Sure enough, thick coarse rope wound itself around Mr. Button's midsection, pinning his arms behind his back. Kitty paused for a moment. She'd brought nothing sharp with her to use as a weapon.

"I'll be right back," She said.

Kitty poked her head outside the door, eyes squinting against the light. All seemed clear. She stepped out cautiously, then turned her gaze to the ground. She needed something sharp and jagged.

A shard of stone lay near her feet. Kitty lifted it up and inspected its edges. It seemed to have broken off during the explosion. Kitty smiled. It would do nicely.

She promptly put the rock fragment to work sawing laboriously through Mr. Button's bonds. At last they were cut through. Mr. Button slumped over, free at last.

"Let's go," Kitty prompted.

The magician rose ponderously to his feet, then fell flat on his face.

"Are you alright?" Kitty asked, helping him up.

"Yes, yes," He wheezed, "Might need a spot of help, though."

With the support of Kitty's steady shoulder, Mr. Button was finally able to hobble out of his makeshift prison. He blinked like an owl in the afternoon light. Kitty glanced around the deserted area.

"Where has Bartimaeus gotten to?" She wondered out loud.

"Bartimaeus?" Asked Mr. Button, his brow wrinkling at the unusual name.

"Um, a djinni. He's an… ally of mine." Kitty fiddled nervously with a strand of hair. Mr. Button raised a bushy brow, but made no comment.

Kitty began to lead Mr. Button up the path. Perhaps from higher ground they would be able to locate their companions.

Suddenly, a hand shot out from nowhere, clamped around Kitty's arm, and yanked her back behind a pile of masonry. Kitty bit back a scream. She lost her grip on Mr. Button, who, knocked off balance, tumbled to the ground with a startled cry.

"Shh, Kitty, it's me," a voice whispered. Her captor released the death grip on Kitty's arm. Kitty spun around, coming face to face with a pale-as-death Rebecca Piper.

"Rebecca!" Kitty exclaimed with delight. So Piper had managed to loose Samir. Kitty felt a deep relief suffuse her. Behind her, Mr. Button let out a pained moan. Suddenly Kitty noticed Rebecca's stricken expression.

"What's the matter," She asked, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Rebecca shook her head, as though to clear it.

"No, no," She said, "I'm just glad to see you, that's all. I thought you'd been captured." Rebecca scratched her head perplexedly, "I swear I saw you being carried to the temple while I was hiding in the grass. I thought you were a goner."

"Gee, thanks for the help," Kitty said, raising an eyebrow.

"Seriously, have you been here the whole time?"

"Yes, of course I have. I've been lying unconscious for who-knows-how-long."

Rebecca's eyes darted back and forth.

"Well… if it wasn't you…"

Suddenly, it dawned on her.

"Bartimaeus!" Kitty cried, "They have him!" Kitty hopped over Mr. Button, sprawled out on the rocky footpath, and began to sprint towards the temple enclosure. Behind her she could hear Rebecca calling her name, but all in vain. She could see the square stone structure ahead. Somewhere inside, Bartimaeus was in danger; there wasn't a moment to loose.

Before she was more than halfway there, Rebecca caught up, jerking her backwards. Harold Button hobbled far behind, crying out miserably for them to wait.

"Kitty, what are you doing?" Rebecca hissed, "You can't just rush headlong into danger. You don't even know for certain if that _was_ Bartimaeus. We should take this chance to escape!"

"If it wasn't Bartimaeus, then who was it?" Kitty cried, "Know any other shape shifters?"

"Why would Bartimaeus take your form?" Said Rebecca, "It doesn't make sense."

"Of course it does!" Said Kitty, "He was drawing them off our trail–giving us a chance to escape! He's going to end us dying for us if we don't do something now!" Kitty was frantic.

"Well, isn't that what you were about to do for Harold?" Rebecca pointed out, "Just accept his sacrifice and get out of here! What can the three of us do against Werfel that a djinni can't?"

"Wait," Said Kitty slowly, the wheels in her head beginning to turn. Suddenly she turned tale and dashed back down the path away from the temple, blazing past the limping Mr. Button and hopping over fallen rocks in her path.

"Where are you going?" Rebecca cried.

"Go back to the temple and hold them off," Kitty called over her shoulder, "I have an idea."


	15. The Showdown

Chapter 14: The Showdown

By Conception.Creation

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the property of Jonathan Stroud

A/N: So close to the end now, I can taste it! Thank you experiement630, Nari-nick, and Duckweed for your reviews. I hope this is worth the wait!

* * *

I was pretty much resigned to death. Even the most valiant warrior must know when it's time to admit defeat, and let's face it; one against fifty is not good odds. All that was left now was to face the end with as much equanimity as I could muster, which wasn't an easy thing to do. After five thousand years you get kind of attached to living. 

This is precisely the reason why I was so surprised when the temple doors slammed open, and two figures burst into the room with war-like cries. Two magicians, one elderly and the other youthful. Button and my old friend Rebecca, who looked particularly fierce as she clenched her fists in a fighting stance.

"Hooray!" I cried, applauding their timely entrance.

"You think that skinny kid and the one-legged magician are going to save you?" Werfel sneered, lowering his weapon a tiny fraction.

Well maybe he had a point about Button, whose face was an obscene shade of mottled purple, and was panting as if he hadn't had anything to drink in four months. Piper had spirit though–and they wouldn't have flown to my rescue without a plan, right?

Hmm, well I had to admit, if there was a plan they were sure taking their time in getting to it. Rebecca stood hesitantly in the doorway, shifting her weight from foot to foot as though trying to figure out what to do next. Werfel gestured to his companions.

It was about this time that I suddenly realized I should probably be escaping while my captor was distracted. I launched myself from the pentacle, flipping through the air and lobbing a Detonation at Werfel for good measure. Missed him by a mile, unfortunately, but at least some nice chunks of the stone wall were blasted away, peppering by-standers with tiny stone missiles.

The room erupted into immediate chaos.

Cries of fury echoed through the chamber. Several guards ran after me, jumping up and down and waving their arms in the air, trying to pull me back to earth. I was wisely flying well out of their reach. A separate wave of men rushed towards Button and Piper, furiously shaking the weapons they carried.

Button lifted stretched out an arm towards the pentacle and uttered a command. A bright orange kangaroo burst into the pentacle's centre in a cloud of choking yellow smoke. A bandersnatch by the looks of it. (Bandersnatch: a lesser djinni known for its _unusual_ manifestation choices.) The creature grabbed the nearest guard and lobbed him right through the ceiling. Nice.

As for me, I was weaving left and right through the air, held aloft by a pair of sparkling white wings sprouting from Ptolemy's back. I ducked to the side as a silver throwing knife hurtled towards me, thrown by an unseen assailant on the ground.

Not fast enough, unfortunately. The silver missile clipped me in the wing. A drugged, sleepy feeling seeped through me as the silver poison permeated my essence. My wing beats faltered and I smashed into the ground in a crumpled heap.

Where I was immediately beset upon by a rather angry cat.

Werfel's little pet kitten took apparent offense to my fall from the heavens, and with a malicious hiss, pounced on my crippled form in a blur of ferocious calico fur.

I tell you, there's nothing quite like a set of jagged claws in your back to bring you back to consciousness.

With a string of vivid curses, which I can not specify here for the sake of propriety, I picked up the writhing kitten by the scruff of its neck and hurled it into the nearest wall. Sorry animal lovers, I plead self defense.

There was an abrupt squeal behind me as someone finally managed to get the Bandersnatch. Its essence dispersed with a loud sucking sound, leaving the three of us to fend for ourselves against the roomful of foes.

Piper suddenly caught my attention. She was dashing towards me, huffing and puffing and glancing back in terror at the unfriendly-looking man bearing down on her, brandishing his knife threateningly. I lent a helping hand, crisping Rebecca's pursuer to a cinder with a well-aimed Inferno.

"Didn't you have some kind of weapon earlier?" I shouted, now blasting at a patch of guards goading the ailing Harold Button. I have to do everything around here, I tell you.

Rebecca was unable to answer, as just then an elemental sphere was launched our way. We dove for cover as the sphere detonated, rocking the foundations of the building.

It was then that Werfel made his move. I hadn't noticed him in all the commotion, but now suddenly he was by Piper's side. Grabbing a fistful of hair, he yanked Rebecca's head back violently, resting the flat of his blade on her exposed throat. Button and I froze.

"Any more tricks up your sleeves?" Werfel growled.

* * *

Kitty was practically flying over the weedy path. Her feet pounded rhythmically as she ran on, powered by pure adrenaline. The pain of her jarring ribs was lost in the urgency of her mission. 

Something lay stretched out in her way, half obscured in the long scraggly grass. Kitty slowed her advance and gazed down upon it.

It was the body of Samir, face down in the golden Egyptian dust. He must have been dead for some time now, for his body was already stiff and cool. A slender dagger jutted from his back, indicating the cause of his demise.

Kitty stared down at her fallen foe impassively. So Rebecca had managed a bit more than mere escape then, had she? Well, no time to waste contemplating the morality of the situation.

Just as Kitty made to leave, a glimmer of metal caught her eye. Samir's heavy rifle lay discarded a few feet from where its owner had fallen.

_Might come in handy._ Kitty told herself. She scooped up the weapon and cradled it in her arms. Then she was running again, no more then a mad blur of movement on the mountain path.

She was approaching the edge now. In front of her, the mountainside plunged fifty feet into the tree-filled valley below. Kitty halted on the brink, staring out over Siwa. Her eyes scanned the horizon. _There. Movement._

She shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and then, with all her strength, screamed a command that reverberated through the Siwa Valley.

There was no change at first. Then a sound. A responding echo resounded through the trees, over the rocks, up the mountainside. Screeches and squeals like those of wild animals, feral growls, and the pounding tempo of wing beats. The blur on the horizon drew nearer, becoming more distinct.

Kitty gripped the cold metal of the rifle for reassurance, as the throng of writhing spirits descended upon her.

* * *

Once again, we were back at square one, with one of our party threatened as the other two watched helplessly. Button and I exchanged glances from across the room. How could we free Rebecca before Werfel turned her into a human pincushion? Neither of us dared to move; Werfel was becoming dangerously livid. 

"Where is she?" Werfel hissed in Rebecca's ear.

Rebecca pressed her mouth into a thin line. This time, she wasn't going to be the one to spill the beans.

Werfel seized her neck and shook her furiously. He was practically foaming at the mouth. The girl's head flopped helplessly back and forth like a rag doll's. She looked a little green.

"Where is _Kathleen Jones_?" Werfel bellowed.

"Right here Werfel," Called a voice from the doorway.

Silhouetted against the dying light from the courtyard beyond stood Kitty, hand on hip and looking mightily pleased with herself. And was that a _gun_ she was carrying?

Werfel acted immediately. He pulled Piper against him, shielding himself with her body. The knife was pressed more firmly against her throat.

"Drop the weapon or the girl dies." Werfel threatened.

Kitty casually tossed the weapon on the floor, her smile never faltering.

"Now," Said Werfel, sounding more confident now that the rifle was out of the picture, "Over there where I can see you. If you cooperate, I will let your friends go free when we are finished here."

Kitty raised an eyebrow.

"You're in no position to be making demands." She said.

"Oh? And why is that?" Werfel's voice dripped with condescension.

Kitty merely folded her arms across her chest.

There was a sudden whirr of wings. The sky behind Kitty darkened, as though storm clouds were gathering behind her. Then all manner of spirits spilled in through the gateway, flooding past Kitty and diving into the crowd of people inside. Shrieks of fear and anger rose up on all sides, flashes of multicoloured light and silver projectiles whizzed back and forth through the air.

Fruit bats, lemurs, cyclopes, octopi: an infinite array of creatures swarmed through the room. The floor shuddered and bucked under the blasts of their magic.

I got to my feet. Oblivious to the pandemonium around me, I tread single-mindedly across the room, my eyes fixed upon Kitty Jones, who'd taken up the assault rifle that had lain at her feet and was trying to work out how to fire it.

"Kitty," I said, delivering a hefty clout to a man who'd stolen behind her. The flailing man sailed clear across the room. She looked up.

"Bartimaeus!" She cried. Her face lit up in a smile.

"Uh, you might want to use the other end of that thing," I suggested looking doubtfully at the weapon she was holding. She had the muzzle pointing towards herself.

Kitty looked down.

"Maybe I should be using a weapon I'm more familiar with," She said sheepishly. Dropping the firearm, She knelt down alongside the nearest corpse and pried a knife from its rigid grip. I grimaced.

"Together then?" Kitty asked.

"Of course."

With a small smile, Kitty slid her hand into mine.

I looked down at our entwined fingers, at her pale skin against Ptolemy's coffee-coloured hand. It looked good.

We entered the battle together, hands joined. With my free hand I sent off a series of Detonations and Obliterations, while Kitty's knife arced and twisted through the air, felling all in her path. We were unstoppable.

Kitty's spirits danced around us, a blur of fur and claw. A potent-looking afrit ripped up a stone pillar and hurled it towards a cluster of men who were in the midst of trampling an unfortunate imp underfoot.

"Bartimaeus, we need to get out," Kitty cried suddenly.

The entire room was shaking with the force of the fight. Cracks were cobwebing up the walls and forming deep fissures in the floor. The building wasn't going to hold much longer.

"There's something I need to do first," I said.

I darted into the thick of the fray, glancing this way and that. At last I saw him.

Werfel.

The elderly man was not ignorant of the state of the temple. He was desperate to get out. I followed him as he scrambled frantically over the bodies of his fallen comrades, stumbling towards the exit, only to find the once-grand Temple entrance had collapsed into a heap of rubble, effectively sealing him inside.

He glanced over his shoulder, eyes widening upon seeing me. He scrambled backwards until his back was pressed against the wall.

I stalked predatorily towards him. He stood slack-jawed as I advanced, watching in horror as my mouth opened slowly, revealing a row of wicked-looking teeth. Wider and wider my mouth stretched, opening to an impossible size.

"No!" Werfel shouted desperately, finding his voice. I ignored him.

The boy advanced.

His jaws slammed shut.

Werfel was gone.

Well, now with that little matter resolved, it was time to escape. Chunks of the ceiling were beginning to fall, raising up thick clouds of dust that filled the room with a choking haze. I spotted Kitty dispatching a foe, her long white hair whirling about her as she darted back and forth.

With a single bound, I leapt to her side, scooped her up, and was racing towards Button and Piper, who were dodging molten chunks of rock tumbling from overhead. I swiftly added these two to my stack of people I had to rescue.

Then, with a running start, I punched through the wall, leaving behind a gaping hole that couldn't have been good for the stability of the building, such as it was. The four of us sailed through, and then tumbled head over heels, landing in a tangle of limbs in the grass outside.

We lay clutching our sides and gasping at the fresh air. Button seemed particularly distressed. I propped myself up on an elbow, watching as the temple deteriorated.

Spirits swarmed out as the walls buckled inwards. With a great rumble that shook the very ground beneath us, the roof collapsed, burying the Pentacle deep within. Clouds of dust rolled up from the ruinous pile of rubble.

What a mess.

The spirits who'd come to our aid drifted nearer and stood calmly before us, waiting expectantly. We stared back at them, a bit overwhelmed by the magnitude of the destruction they had caused. Kitty got to her feet.

She took one step forwards, then another. There was a pregnant pause. Then she raised her arms towards them, palms turned upwards.

"Thank you for your aid," She called, "I now dismiss you back to your homeland." She made the gesture of dismissal.

With various pop's, snaps, and whistles, the spirits departed, leaving Kitty, Rebecca, Button, and I alone on the hillside, beneath the smoking ruin of the Temple of Amun.


	16. Epilogue: The End

Epilogue: The End

By Conception.Creation

Disclaimer: The Bartimaeus Trilogy is the property of Jonathan Stroud.

A/N: And so it ends. This chapter marks the end of my first foray into fan fiction. I still can't believe I managed to stick with it to the finish! Thank you to all of you who reviewed a chapter of my story: experiment630, Omorose, Monica, otahyoni, sofia666, pkoholic, and xxxLoverOfWrittenArtxxx and very special thanks to Duckweed and Nari-nick for reviewing nearly every chapter. You guys are the reason this story is here!

* * *

The Alexandria Airport was a wasps' nest of activity. New departures and arrivals swarmed over the concrete, their calls of greeting and farewell rising into an unintelligible cacophony. Jets screamed overhead, ferrying passengers to whatever distant land their hearts desired.

We were out on the runway, saying our goodbyes to Piper and Button before they boarded their flight. It wasn't a terribly comfortable place. Hot rolls of steam rolled up from the pavement, heated as it was in the mid-morning sunlight. If we stood out there any longer, chances were we'd be boiled to death in our own sweat.

"Make sure you come and visit," Button was saying to Kitty, as he mopped his brow with a sodden handkerchief, "I rather think that I'll not be returning to Egypt anytime soon, so the task falls on you, dear."

Yes, I didn't blame the man if he wasn't keen on coming back to Siwa. Getting kidnapped by a radical faction and being threatened with death, well, not your ideal vacation getaway, as far as I understand it.

Kitty smiled.

"I will," She said. She reached out and shook his hand.

The old magician hobbled towards the plane, which was waiting impatiently for its last two passengers. Rebecca made to follow, but stopped, then turned back briefly and looked at me.

"Take care, Bartimaeus," She said.

I nodded.

Then she too was off, hefting her carry-on luggage over her shoulder and making a break for the plane.

Kitty and I stood on the tarmac, waving our arms off, until the plane finally began to roll towards the runway. Well, the magicians were off, headed back to where they belonged in Britain. I had to admit, I was going to miss Piper a little.

It was eleven o'clock, and there was still an hour and a half before Kitty needed to board the bus back to Siwa. So, after a bit of aimless wandering, we found ourselves in the food court. The area rumbled with conversations held in a multitude of languages. Hordes of people jostled each other, desperately trying to get their hands on the last greasy hotdog. Kitty and I took advantage of the chance to rest for a bit.

We sat down at a cheap plastic table, which I immediately noticed was peppered with dried up wads of chewing gum. Quite distasteful.

I looked up from my perusal of the many delights of our dining surface, only to find Kitty fixing me with a contemplative stare. Her brow was furrowed as though she were trying to broach a particularly difficult subject. I wondered what could be bothering her–apart from our less-than-stellar surroundings, of course. Suddenly Kitty leaned back a little, propping her elbows up on the back of the chair behind her.

"So, I guess you'll be leaving soon," she said, her voice deceptively casual.

Right…_that_.

I fidgeted in my seat. I had been dreading this moment ever since we'd arrived in Alexandria. After all that had happened, how could I just say good bye? Looking askance at me in my hesitant silence, Kitty continued.

"After all, you've been here for a couple days straight now, and I know how it pains you to remain on Earth for too long. I certainly can't blame you if you're itching to return." She looked at me carefully as she spoke.

I tried to look nonchalant.

"Maybe that's not such a good idea," I said, "I mean, with djinn popping out of you every time you shut your eyes, someone's got to be there to keep you out of trouble, right?"

Kitty's expression soured.

"I think I've proved I can handle myself," She growled, "And I don't need someone hanging around, babysitting me. Don't feel obliged to stay here when it's _there_ that you really want to be."

I rubbed the back of my neck with one hand and cleared my throat, trying again.

"Well… you know… " I stared intently at a small black mark on the tiled floor. Strange, the things you find fascinating when you're just wishing you could disappear.

"What I mean is, umm… maybe I _want_ to hang around for a bit…"

"What?"

"Yeah, maybe I actually like being–"

My pathetic attempts at forming a coherent sentence evaporated as Kitty gently placed a hand on my arm. I looked up abruptly into her face.

There was a strange sort of smile in the girl's eyes that I couldn't read, no matter how hard I tried. As I was frozen, staring into those eyes, an odd sort of hope ballooned within me. Kitty's hand slid up my arm, over my shoulder, rested behind my neck. And then she was pulling me towards her.

As her mouth met mine, a single thought bubbled to the surface of my mind.

_Oh yes, I'm _definitely_ sticking around._

The End


End file.
